The Messenger
by Trust No One
Summary: FINAL CHAPTER ADDED ! A birthday gift turns out to be more than lawyer Mel bargains for when she joins a Middle-Earth themed Virtual Reality experiment and awakens to find out how it all went wrong.
1. Default Chapter

Title: The Messenger 

Author: Trust No One

Category: Angst / Action

Rating: PG13

Summary: A birthday gift turns out to be more than lawyer Mel bargains for when she joins a Virtual Reality experiment only to awaken in Middle-Earth (circa 3017) and find out how it's all gone wrong...Pre LotR

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine, except for Mel and Tamara. They belong to Tolkien, to whom I am forever grateful!!

A/N:  I'm not making money out of this…and while the 'wake-up in Middle-Earth' theme has been explored before, I hope that my take on it will keep you interested….

Please R&R! 

~ 1. A Birthday Gift ~

I never cared much for birthdays. Especially since the few close friends I have turn up at my doorstep whether invited or not. I even tried going away and switching off my phone the one time, but it didn't really work.

 'I'm sick of your attitude.' Tamara chided, 'You're a grown woman. Just accept that you have friends that want to share your birthday with you.'

So, for fear of appearing difficult and immature, I let Tamara organize my 30th birthday party. The truth was, I knew better than to argue with her. Tamara was my partner in a small but lucrative law practice and the closest thing I had to a family.

I had recently broken off a four-year relationship and had it not been for my work and Tamara, I would have cut myself off further from the world. Only she and I knew that I still ached over the breakup and that I wasn't quite ready to pick up where I had left off. 

She also knew I did not feel much like celebrating. My work calendar was an absolute nightmare and I loathed wasting time in restaurants, indulging, eating and drinking. It was enough when one had to do that for business. I knew the next day I'd be puffy-eyed and queasy from all the rich food and wine. Tamara, however, would not take no for an answer. She reckoned we could handle a weekend away from the office. I agreed, albeit reluctantly.

'You're worse than my mother, you know' I blurted out at her.

My birthday gift was going to be something really unusual, according to Tamara, something that would draw me out of my dormant state. I tried to show interest and secretly hoped Tamara wasn't trying to set me up with someone... but then I thought better of it. She would respect my space. I felt guilty for being unfair to her, even in my thoughts.

We went out that night with a few close friends to my favourite restaurant. I was supposed to get my present afterwards, which in all fairness stirred my curiosity a little.

It was a few minutes after the waiter had brought the desserts that I first began to feel light-headed and my heart started hammering in my chest. Great, I thought, the fish was off... We'd dined dozens of times at the Japanese place, yet none of us had ever been sick.

I realized something was truly wrong when I noticed Tamara's face swimming in and out of focus. Then I realized that it was not my trusted friend and business partner that sat across the table from me. It was a dark, long-haired man, with a craggy and unshaven face, smoking what appeared to be a pipe. He was speaking softly but I could not make out the words. Or was it the language?

This was all wrong. What was happening? I tried calling out for Tamara, but the words formed on my lips gurgled like I was submerged underwater. Suddenly, I was drowning, my mouth and throat filling up with liquid. I panicked. It was all happening so fast I had no time to register where I was. I struggled for breath. Then all became dark and I was aware of voices around me before I sank into unconsciousness.

~~

'Mel'

I swam up. 

Cold fingers grasping my arm… a soft touch. Then a voice, a familiar voice.

'Mel'

Warm light filtering through my eyelids…then Tamara's face leaning close to mine. Smiling. Tired, worried looking eyes...

The air smelled fresh, sweet almost and there was a scent that I could not define, almost like crisp, clean linen aired on a cold winter morning.

'What happened…?' 

My throat was ragged and my mouth felt terribly dry.

'You were allergic to that fish you ate.' Tamara replied gently.

'Nonsense, I had that fish …so many times before…' I said, big gaps between my words. Talking was strenuous and I was wondering, whatever had taxed my body so?

'Well, I know it's silly, but that's what it was.' Tamara said. I was too tired to argue with her.

'I'm thirsty…'

I found that I could sit up without difficulty, as long as I did it slowly. I drank, gulped rather, the water that Tamara handed me, looking around at the same time. The room was strange for a hospital ward. It was painted an unusual shade of ivory. The ceiling was exceptionally high and arched and it bore strange stone carvings. The headboard of my bed had the same carvings, only in wood. It looked like a deformed tree, it's crown twisted out of shape by a tornado. It looked odd yet original.  There was no other furniture in the room except the chair Tamara sat on and what looked like a dresser, again carved in the same manner.

It was beautiful, but bizarre and I could not help feeling overwhelmed and suspicious at the same time.

'Tamara, what is this place?'

A strange smile creased Tamara's features. Her blue eyes seemed electric with a light that I'd never quite noticed before. She had a glow about her that I hadn't seen before either.

'It's your birthday present.' she said softly.

'Is this like a health spa or something?' I asked stupidly, fully aware that after a food allergy that had nearly killed me I should be in hospital, with a drip hanging from my arm. I looked but there was none. What alarmed me was the unrecognizable pastiness of my arms, blue veins visible through semi-transparent skin, no trace of the tan I usually sported from my early morning surfing sessions. It was almost like the arms did not belong to me at all.

'Tamara, I'm suitably freaked out now, okay? Enough of this surprise already! Will you tell me what's happening?'

Wild thoughts raced through my head. Something was wrong.

'How long have I been out exactly?' I asked, dreading an answer that had occurred to me, something like " Three years".

'About seventy hours' she said and I let out a sigh of relief. Still, three days was a long time. Weekend must be over, work…

'Where are we?'

I considered myself a rational, articulate human being and my mind refused to comprehend the next words that came out of Tamara's mouth.

'Remember Middle-Earth?'

~~

The stylish high ceiling collapsed. This was either a twisted dream or that I had already died and long-buried memories were surfacing before my soul left my body once and for all. Tamara couldn't really be there, I was just imagining it.

I must have looked appalled as I slumped back onto the bed because Tamara started explaining right away.

'Oh, no, Mel, not the _real_ Middle-Earth...' Her smile was almost sad, as if she really yearned for all this to be real. That was Tamara all right, escapist and geeky, even at her age.

'It's a Virtual Reality Projection. I thought you'd like it as a birthday present. Jerry suggested it since he's been involved in the development since the beginning and he guaranteed it to be an experience out of this world.'

You can say that again, I mused. Tamara had been right when she promised me an outstanding birthday gift.

'Tamara, this is incredible. How did you ever think of something like this?'

It all seemed so real. I did not really know what to expect from a Virtual Reality projection, I never even knew it existed, but the clarity of image, sound and taste was flawless. I could not fathom how I was in fact strapped to a chair with VR goggles over my eyes.

Jumping off the bed – feeling surprisingly steady on my feet - I ran to the window, pushing the curtain aside. I remember thinking how sheer and natural the translucent material was to the touch… this was too perfect.

The view that I saw from the window was spectacular. The afternoon light trickling through tree branches…the top of other trees on the southward slope, the sun kissing them in a symphony greens, rusts and yellows. A gentle fragrant wind brushed against my cheeks and played with my hair. The air smelled so fresh and clean I felt like I was drawing my first breath ever.

It was inconceivable to think all this was unreal, that it had been created and resided in the memory of a computer. Who could have invented the images that lay before my eyes sprawled in luscious beauty? 

Before my mind could summon up the name of the place, Tamara was behind me, whispering.

'Lothlorien. Kingdom of the Elves'

~~

So there you have it! There will be more and it will get a lot worse, hehe!! Let me know if I should go on or not!!! 

I'd like to have feedback and suggestions especially since English is not my native language….


	2. Revelation

A/N : Thanks to all who reviewed, hopefully you will enjoy the rest…(And yes, Legolas is in here)

~ Chapter 2.  Revelation ~

A feeling of calm serenity swept over me. The daily stress of my life forgotten, I made a mental note to remember this sensation every time my outside life became too much to handle. 

'Mel…'

I turned to find Tamara and a tall dark-haired woman standing beside her. She had the same glow about her that I noticed on Tamara. I had not heard her coming in. She held a sheer light blue caftan-like dress draped over her arms, much like the one Tamara was wearing. She smiled and said something in an unknown language, which I assumed to be elvish. Then she laid the dress on the bed and slipped out of the room.

'I didn't understand a word she said' I told Tamara. 'You'd think, logically, they should have a translation program in the software.'

'They do,' Tamara replied and her eyes suddenly clouded, 'but there's been a malfunction in the program. One of many, actually' Her voice had dropped and I could tell there was more to this than she was telling. 'They're trying to fix it and by the time we get to meet everyone, we should be able to communicate.'

'Are we going to meet the elves?' I couldn't believe my own excitement. Here I was in a completely new world, wanting to taste every aspect of this forbidden existence. I was not a lawyer but a kid in a candy store. And I wanted everything.

'Yes' Tamara replied 'Galadriel, Celeborn for starters, then some of the other characters. But let me not spoil it for you. Wait and see.' She added and I knew she was not going to tell me more.

'How long are we going to be here?' I asked, suddenly reminded that somewhere out there life was carrying on as normal.

Tamara looked straight at me and I saw that her face had gone ashen. She did not say a word.

'What's the matter, Tamara?' 

She grasped my hands in hers. I felt she was trying to tell me something, but we needed time for it. Clearly there was no time for it now.

'We have to join the elves. We cannot keep them waiting. Get dressed.'

'I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong.' I knew I sounded like a stubborn child, but I needed to know what was disturbing Tamara so.

'Mel', she said in an exasperated tone, 'since you are here, why not enjoy it? There's nothing we can do about it now. And there's plenty of time to argue later.' Her eyes pleaded for me to let it go.

'All right' I agreed. I trusted Tamara and after all, we were here to have fun 'Let's go meet the elves.'

As I dressed I wished for a mirror but there wasn't one in the room and Tamara said I looked presentable enough to meet the high elves.

I felt tingly with excitement, like a schoolgirl about to meet her favourite boy-band.

'You'll tell me what's really going on afterwards, okay?'

Tamara nodded, apprehension still marking her soft features. 

We exited the room to find the tall elf-woman waiting for us outside. 

'Follow me' she said in her language. This time I understood her. It hadn't taken them long to fix the bug, I thought as I smiled back at her and beckoned her to lead us. I was still shy to speak.

We had been housed on an elevated platform that seemed to thin to the touch of my bare feet that I was reluctant to walk. It was like being on ice without the chill. I saw our elven companion gliding across the surface and I thought, foolishly, she's a little taller than me, must also weigh more, the surface will not break… We followed.

We walked down a winding stairway made of the same material as the platform. The staircase encircled the giant trunk of what had to be an ancient tree. Impossibly high too, since I counted thirty full circles till we finally stepped on solid ground. By that time I was feeling so dizzy that Tamara had to offer her arm to steady me.

'Take it easy' she whispered. 'You just got out of bed.'

The next few hours will always stay with me as one the most peaceful and soothing experiences I ever had. I cannot say whether it was the food, which I found surprisingly tasty, or the conversation, which I could now fully comprehend and participate in. 

Maybe it was the stories we heard, or the songs. Maybe it was the feeling of belonging, the unreserved tranquility that these beings seemed so infused with. I could remember experiencing no such feeling in real life. This alternate universe that relaxed and calmed an overworked and overstressed mind would easily become an addiction for the world in the years to come.

We sat next to Galadriel and Celeborn as the food was served. I tried not to stare but I caught Tamara herself gaping a few times. I agreed, so this was more her fantasy than my own, but she had not been mistaken when choosing this place as a gift for me.

I had to constantly remind myself that this was a game and it would not matter if we turned out to be two rude humans after all. Yet while we were here I felt we had to respect the harmony of the beings that had been created for our own pleasure. Foolishly, I reflected: this place did not exist. Or so I thought…

Galadriel and Celeborn looked surprisingly like real people, but for the pointy ears and the strange bluish light that seemed to glow deep inside them. Galadriel was a rare beauty yet there was an edge to her splendor, sadness and wisdom, especially in her intense blue eyes. They bore lights in their depths as if they had seen ages upon ages of this world. She did not seem a computer creation at all.

We heard tales of their ancestors and children, of their origins and history. It was all like a Middle-Earth history lesson. I vaguely recalled reading about them in my teenage years, which seemed millennia ago, but I had understandably forgotten most of it. 

'My guests are weary now' she said with a smile that revealed small, even white teeth. She could obviously see what I was trying to conceal for fear of appearing rude.

'In the morning we shall meet the others. They are expected to arrive during the night.'

 wondered who the others were but fatigue was overcoming me fast. I longed to fall asleep thinking about this gathering of beautiful creatures. Yet my bones did not ache nor did any part of my body feel the effect of the food allergy. Neither Tamara nor myself were aware of how long we spent in the company of the elves but when we rose to leave, the sky was dark, clear and scattered with stars, the night air crisp and cool. I dreaded climbing all the way up to my high-perched bedroom, but my feet led me there painlessly and quicker than I thought. 

'Where is your room?' I asked Tamara as we reached the platform 'You're not sleeping in that chair next to my bed, I assume.' I joked, my mood mellow and relaxed.

'No, of course' she replied. Then she turned towards me. Her features bore the same troubled look she had before the dinner. 

She had urged me to enjoy the dinner and promised we would talk later and I had forgotten all about it.

'You can't go to bed yet. I'm sorry, Mel. We need to talk' 

A sense of unease formed in the pit of my stomach  

She sat me down on the bed, against my protests, before she began to tell me. As she progressed, my mind started to darken and although I was staring at her, I could only hear fragments of what she was saying. I saw her face and how anguish swept over her features gradually making it look like a mask of anguish, how tears came eventually and started rolling down her cheeks. Her lips moved but I only heard echoes of her words in my head. I heard it over and over…my sentence… my doom…

'The VR projection is started by a pill that I slipped into your drink at the restaurant. Somehow this pill must have triggered an allergy, a reaction. We never knew you were allergic to the fish, you were right, you'd had it many times before…but something went wrong …the allergy… it interfered with the program… your body and mind can only be sustained in this world…if you go back, you are in a coma in hospital…you are trapped here,… we don't know for how long, …... Trapped! Trapped!'

Tamara never left me that night.

Waves of panic mingled with rage and terror swept over me. It was denial… this cannot be happening to me… then hysteria… this is a joke, you are dreaming, wake up! Wake Up!!!!

I felt violated and crushed. Something had happened that had swept me away from my life, my business and my world and I refused to accept the unfairness of it all. It was like being told that I had an incurable disease with only a short while to live. Wait! I just had been told that I could die at any moment, just like that, without any preparation… I had read somewhere that people diagnosed with fatal diseases went through a phase of denial first before accepting their fate. Only I wasn't about to accept this abomination.  

Throughout that awful night, I would often think, this is not me, I can't be here… This is a sinister joke stretched too far…

Then Tamara would try to talk some sense into me, to' let me know how this projection worked. At first I refused to listed, lashing out at her countless times 

'How could you do this to me? You ruined my life. I hate you!' 

Tamara took all the abuse I hurled at her stoically and with infinite tolerance.

She kept whispering 'I'm sorry! I'm sorry!' but I was deaf to her pleas for forgiveness.

At some point, I remember even begging her to end it all.

'Please, get me out. Tell whoever is running this game or whatever it is to get me out. I don't care if I die, just please, please get me out….'

I'm certain that I said other unspeakable things to her in my rage and despair, but to some extent I am grateful that I cannot remember, or my guilt would be tenfold.

Then a thought occurred to me, then another and another and I started asking questions. Tamara did not by any means have all the answers but I learned a little about my 'condition'.

'You are functioning perfectly in this world, but for how long, we don't know. Whatever is happening and will happen in future is not a preset scenario. This projection is based on what your brainwaves are creating, whether consciously or not, so obviously your brain is very active at some level. But mainly it is based on your interaction with the other characters in the game. Their personality traits are recorded in the software code, their reactions, however, are not. They belong entirely to themselves. This is as real as it will ever get.'

'What happens if I die in here?'

'You die in the real world. And viceversa.'

'So if my brain decides that its had enough fun in Middle Earth, it can just shut down and I drop dead?'

Tamara averted her eyes but nodded her head, just barely. She did not spare my feelings. No matter how painful it might be, I needed to know exactly how much trouble I was in.

'Yes' she replied levelly ' And it can happen anytime. But you are stable in our world. All your vitals are normal. It's just that…' she would not say it but I knew.

Then I looked at her, my only link with the outside world, and a fresh wave of panic engulfed me.

'And you, Tame? Are you real?' I knew what I wanted to hear, but I had heard nothing of the sort in the past few hours.

'Yes, I'm real. I asked Jerry to insert me into the game, to guide you and to see you through this tough time, until you somewhat accept what is happening to you' She said but when I saw fresh tears flooding her sad, blue eyes I knew there was more to it than that.

My heart sank.

'You have to go back.' I said, the calmest that I'd been in a long time.

'Yes. And once I'm out, I cannot be re-inserted in the game. Another glitch…'

I opened my mouth to say something, but thought better of it. I looked Tamara in the eye and tried my hardest to sound detached and composed.

'Life carries on, Tame. I would expect you to do no less.' My voice was broken when I added  'Just take care of the business.' And I immediately regretted saying it because I saw the reaction on Tamara's face. 

She could no longer hold back, she broke down and I could not help it but let my own tears flow freely. They had been coming a long time and I didn't know if they would bring any release. But as I held Tamara and tried to say some idiotic words of forgiveness and encouragement, feeling the extent of her guilt, bitterness slowly dissolved into sorrow and empathy for my trusted friend.

'But I did this to you, Mel.' She sobbed ' I should never be allowed to go back. Never. Never.'

I had no reply to that. Yet strangely enough I felt no resentment or anger at her any longer. This was some awful twist of fate and while I was far from accepting what was happening to me, I was beginning to understand that even this world, as far-fetched and surreal as it might be, would be a better choice compared to lying in a coma, in the dark while the conscious mind was awake yet not capable of forcing the body and the brain to wake up and resume normal life. 

After a long while when we just cried in each other's arms I thought it best to break the moment before I started feeling any sorrier for myself, and dragged Tamara further down with me in the pits of despair.

'I need a cigarette'

Tamara smiled through her tears. She saw right through me, as always.

'You quit'

'Yeah? Well, what does it matter now?'

'Anyway, you're in Middle Earth now and the next best thing would be one of their pipes. But' she added and I could see that she was teasing and trying to lift my spirit 'ladies don't smoke.'

'To hell with that, I'm no lady.' I said as I almost smiled. But my heart was thumping in my chest, I felt nauseous, helpless and miserable.

In this exquisite world populated by ethereal, seraphic beings, I was utterly alone.

~~

A/N : If this is taking a while getting off the ground, sorry. But hang around, there will be many more twists and turns!! 


	3. Choice

Disclaimer: I do not own Tolkien's characters or locations.

A/N: Thanks again to those who reviewed for encouraging me!! This fiction has developed into something a lot bigger than what I originally had in mind, and that is mostly due to my readers!! 

~ 3. Choice ~

I slept eventually, my mind and body no longer able to sustain the tension. Worrying before going to sleep would soon become second nature to me for fear of not waking up again. 

I had come to the realization that I wasn't prepared to give up on my life, such as it was, just yet.  Sometime during the night, Tamara had extracted a promise out of me: to fight and do whatever it took to find my way back. I indulged her, albeit reluctantly, realizing I dared not wish against it. I seriously doubted there was a way back, as she put it. Yet I couldn't just give up, lie down and wait to die, even if that was a very real possibility. It went against everything I used to be. Used to be…. The mere thought tightened my chest with rage.

As I had expected, Tamara was gone in the morning when I woke, and I was left to find my own way in the world where I now belonged. 

My bedroom had a bathroom attached to it, I soon discovered. A bath was ready and steaming just as I got out of bed. Clearly someone had watched over me and upon waking up had drawn my bath for me. I did not know who had prepared all this but I felt slightly uncomfortable, spied on. Yet I could not imagine anyone with harmful intent in mind. Maybe they kept vigil on me in case I died suddenly. Curiously, the thought did not terrify me as much as it had last night.

The bath was infinitely more relaxing than any other I could remember. There was a lot of strain to wind down too. The fragrant water had a mixture of oils and crystals that relaxed my muscles and calmed my mind. Fresh flowers were sprinkled in the carved stone tub, their scent subtle yet fresh and soothing. I lay there for a long time, thinking about my predicament. Finally, tears came and I wept bitterly, desperately yet inexplicably liberated. I suspected there would be many more tears to follow until…..

Face it, I told myself…until you die or some miracle happens.

Or at least until I found more answers. And I certainly wasn't going to find any sitting here. I needed to haul myself out of what was quickly turning into comfortable self-pity and start interacting with as many people as I possibly could. Networking, creating contacts was the life-blood of my chosen profession. It would help me survive here too.

I found fresh clothes laid out for me as I went out into the bedroom and once I was dressed, Elriniel, the tall elf-lady who had waited on me the previous evening, entered the room carrying a small basket of hair-brushes and other hair accessories. Since my hair hung just below my shoulders and was quite unruly, she made two braids on each side of my face and joined them behind my back where she worked for awhile without me being aware of what she was doing. There were no mirrors anywhere so I had to trust her. When she was finished, I felt with my fingers to get an idea of the style. It felt rather intricate. 

I gathered up my courage and started the long descent to the ground, wishing for Tamara's steadying grip.

No one seemed to mind or be overly concerned with my presence. Elves that walked past smiled at me but left me alone and after a while I started concentrating on not staring openly or gaping when I saw just how exquisite these creatures looked in the morning light. The women were tall and serene while the men, while handsome and masculine, were a far cry from the more rugged-looking humans I was used to. 

I walked in silence awhile, enjoying the solitude as I inhaled the unearthly clean air.

'Just breathing this air adds years to your life' I thought and my heart twisted a little. Sadly, that was not my case...

'My lady'

I spun around, startled by the closeness of the voice. I did not expect to come face to face with a tall elf with long blonde hair and dark piercing eyes.

'I did not mean to frighten you, my lady.' He said with a smile 'Forgive me, but Lady Galadriel wishes for you to join her at mealtime'

'Yes, of course, thank you' was all I could think of saying. He bowed formally and beckoned me to follow him.

He led me to an open veranda where a table had been laid for about a dozen people.

'Welcome, Mel.' Galadriel said as she gestured me to sit beside her 'Was your sleep restful?'

'Yes, my lady. Thank you for your kindness' I answered, still unsure of how exactly to address this majestic creature. 

I felt her gaze searching me as I felt she was somehow aware of the exchange that had gone on between Tamara and myself the previous night.

Upon entering the dining hall, I noticed unfamiliar faces seated around the carven stone table, especially a rugged-looking man with dark hair and unshaven face. I had the distinct feeling that I had seen him somewhere before. To his immediate right sat an old gentleman with a gray, unkempt beard and unmistakably unyielding, yet kind gray eyes. The third one was an elf I had not seen the night before. He looked young and had an open expression; handsome yet delicate and long fair hair hanging on his shoulders. He was the most striking male I had ever seen.

That is how I met Aragorn, Gandalf and Legolas.

They were gracious and well mannered, yet I could almost feel their eyes piercing me, penetrating and faintly distrustful. 

I didn't blame them since I felt the same way. 

More than the others, Aragorn watched my every reaction like a hawk. Why? And especially, how could someone whose character traits were written into software code send across any vibes at all? It was not the first time I would be amazed at the complexity of this world.

Even more worrying was the fact that I could sense nothing of the kind from Gandalf and Legolas. They merely looked at me their eyes intent and focused, as if trying to read my mind.

Galadriel must have sensed my uneasiness because when she spoke to me, her tone was gentle and it had in immediate calming effect on me.

'Mel, do not worry yourself needlessly. After the meal, we will talk and you will learn what you need to know.'

I wondered what exactly 'need to know' meant. I was in their world and my well being, indeed my life, depended on my learning as much as possible, even if it was on a need-to-know basis.

We had soft cakes, a mixture between muffins and crumpets. The water cup I drank from had flowers strewn in it and the flavor was so invigorating it tasted almost antiseptic. 

Oddly enough, I had not felt the need for coffee since I had woken up. Not yet. I was on my third cup of coffee by the time the sun was up as I was a nearly riser, and could not dream of functioning properly until my fifth cup. 

The table was cleared swiftly and freshly scented water pitchers were set in front of us. So far it all looked like a conference was about to start and Middle-Earth or not, I recognized a business meeting when I saw one.

I counted twelve people sitting at that table, mostly elves, mostly men, save for Galadriel and myself.

Galadriel spoke, her manner stately and solemn.

'As we all have come to know of late, the times we live in are dire. Darkness is growing and whether because of the Shadow from the East or from other parts, it is slowly spreading. More and more lands are threatened by old and new evil. Some we can weather. Others, we can defeat. Yet others we cannot thwart because we do not know what they truly are. They come under the guise of innocence and familiarity yet they could be new, more heinous and unfathomable kinds of evil wrought, to serve what purpose, we do not know. Signs have come to us over the years, few, yet to disregards them would be impossible as it would be foolish.'

Galardriel's gaze rested on me and I felt my heart sink while my cheeks started to burn with a strange flush.

'You are one such sign, Mel.' She said, no trace of resentment in her voice.

Before I could repress my words, I was protesting.

'How can I be a sign?' I tried to restrain my voice from sounding shrill and not reveal the anxiety that simmered inside me, but with little success.

'I don't even belong in this world.'

'You do not, that is true' Galadriel replied, 'yet you find yourself here with no way back to your own world. To have crossed over into our world is evidence enough that someone is capable of stretching the boundaries of space and time.'

My stomach turned in shock as the realization dawned on me. 

They think their world is real... What's more, they think their world is the only real world. 

Was there any other way than to play along? I doubted it.

I tried to push away the next thought that formed in my head, but my brain refused to stop thinking…

At least there was something to do while I waited to die. A sudden desire came over me to end it all there, to put an end to all the uncertainty, to the waiting. Part of me was horrified and sickened at the thought. Yet another part of me did not seem to mind. My mixed feelings must have been clearly reflecting on my face, and I did not bother concealing them, since Galadriel reached out her hand and touched me lightly. Again I was strangely soothed.

'Mel, even if we do not know how or why you came here, there must be a reason why all this happened. We will need your help as much as you need ours.'

It was Gandalf who spoke this time, his voice deep and resonant, and every word he uttered seemed to have great weight. Yet he spoke with great empathy.

'Every now and then', he said, 'we see things that do not belong to our world. Some good. Some evil. And every once in a while we are sent messengers. You are one such messenger. Your companion was another. As the Lady of Light said, this is a time of darkness when the Shadow from the East is growing, threatening to swallow up all the free lands on Middle-Earth. It is in such times that we must be on guard and try to stave off the onslaught of the enemy. For my part, I do not believe that your arrival here has anything to do with darkness…'

'But such messengers in troubled times cannot be good omens,' Aragorn interjected, his tone eloquent yet unbiased. 'I mean no offense, my lady' he said looking at me somewhat diffidently. Yet there was no trace of an apology in his gray, determined eyes.

'That might be so, Aragorn' Gandalf agreed then turning to me, said 'But I feel quite safe to wager that neither you nor your companion are creatures of the dark. You resemble the race of Men more than anyone else in Middle-Earth.' 

'But Men do not posses the craft of magic, indeed they are the least gifted race, if I may say so myself.' Aragorn replied evenly 'Mel's companion disappeared without a trace during the night. It would have been impossible for her to slip away unseen…' he let the sentence trail off. 

I realized he wasn't being arrogant or prejudiced, he was just being cautious. And being cautious meant he was wary of my motives and me.

I watched this exchange anxiously. I had stifled all reactions and harsh words that came to my lips until I could hold them back no more.

'Forgive me for intruding' I said, choosing my words carefully and trying to appear polite yet decisive 'I believe I need to explain something, before any one of you goes on.'

I paused and glanced around the table, the same way I did in real life, in a deadlocked conference or in the courtroom.

I had their attention. The difference was, I didn't have a clear line of defense here. Instinct was my only guide.

'I do not wish to be here any more than you yourselves wish for me to be here. But I can assure you, my presence here has nothing to do with any message, pending disaster or indeed with the end of your world. Until a short while ago, I was not even aware that your world existed. I am here purely by accident and if I could go back in the next instant, I would do so without hesitation.'

I carried on, aware of eleven pairs of eyes intent on my every breath.

'I am indeed human. But I was not sent here to warn anyone about anything. I am… lost here.' I could head my voice becoming strangled as I prayed for strength and enough control to be able to finish my speech. 'My companion Tamara disappeared because she returned to the world I also belong to. Only I cannot follow. I am trapped here until such time as I find a way back.' I tried to sound as composed and less dramatic as I could but I had to stop lest emotion choked my next words.

'Tamara spoke to me last night' Galadriel said gently. 'I know about your misfortune and of the shadow that hangs over your head' 

For a moment, I wondered just how much the others knew and I resented being pitied. Another part of me silently thanked Tamara for taking the burden of explanation off my shoulders. 

'Yet somehow' Galadriel continued, her deep blue eyes shimmering with a strange light, 'I cannot shake the feeling that your fate, such as it is, might be entwined with that of our world. You are a sign, Mel… a sign that something else besides us has access to our world. This is what is so unsettling.'

You have no idea, I thought. 

Gandalf flinched visibly and I had the distinct impression that my mind had been laid bare in front of the dignified old wizard.

The show of female camaraderie had brightened my mood only for a moment. Galadriel wasn't on my side any more than the men watching me from across the table. Yet she had clearly conveyed the message that whatever I was, she would rather have me in her corner.

Something still bothered me though. If I was an unknown entity, neither evil nor good, then what was I doing sitting at the table with them, in what was an obviously an important decision-making process? I decided to be direct. No harm would come of it.

'May I ask what are your intentions with me?' I asked, looking straight at Galadriel, who was after all, my hostess.

'You have a choice, Mel,' Galadriel spoke, her gaze amenable and warm again. 

'You can stay here for as long as you wish. However, I fear that I cannot help you more than by giving you lodging and food. And it is obvious to me that you are bent on finding answers…'

She paused for a moment and I thought I saw an imperceptible nod from Gandalf.

'Your other choice is to join Gandalf, Estel and Legolas on their journey to Mirkwood. Their mission is to deliver a dangerous prisoner to Lord Thranduil, prince Legolas' father. I must warn you, it would be wiser to stay here. Their road is filled with peril. But should you desire in your heart to leave, I will not hinder you. Perhaps you will find the answers and such healing as you seek beyond the confines of this realm.'

~~

A/N: It will get worse, do not fear! If you have suggestions and constructive criticism, I'd like to hear it!


	4. Bound

Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien characters, and I never will L . I am just borrowing them for my own pleasure…

A/N: Thanks again to those who reviewed! Here is a shorter chapter that serves as a link to the chapters that follow.

Dy: Yes, you were right!! 

danceingfae: Hope you like this…

~ 4. Bound ~

Tension and restlessness haunted my steps for the rest of the day.

This tumult of emotion had nothing to do with the fact that I had decided to leave Lothlorien. Staying was out of the question. Galadriel had put it plainly enough. Whether it was healing or answers that I sought, I had to believe they would be somewhere out there. 

The feeling I got from everyone around me was that they would rather I left. Besides I got the distinct impression that 'my purpose', as they called it, was known to them and it was up to me to discover it in my own time.

The one clear thing was that, though not expressed in words, whether I stayed or not, I would be under the careful scrutiny and watchful eyes of either the Lorien elves or their trusted allies. Either way, I could not stray very far without their knowledge. I needed them in order to survive. 

I doubted they found me, a human female, dangerous in any way. It was what I could represent that troubled them. Not an evil presence, but something unknown.

Evil in my world had a totally different meaning. I thought of drug lords, murderers and child molesters and evil came to mind. It was the unknown that scared the people in my world more than anything. And I was beginning to learn that the creatures of Middle Earth feared it just as much.

I walked on the spongy ground, strolling amid the colossal ancient trees, trying to think and to relax, but most of all striving to give some meaning to what was happening to me. 

I must have wandered farther than I thought and I glanced around to find any familiar landmarks, when the fresh air was torn by a shriek so fierce it froze my blood. Never in my life had I heard something so feral and agonized. Whatever creature was making that sound must be enduring terrible torture, I thought. 

Yet this tranquil environment was the last place where I thought anything like this could happen. Or was it?

I tried to track the direction of the noise. No other cries resounded but as I got close, I heard whimpers and hisses. Fear gripped me as I suddenly realized that I wasn't too keen on discovering what had made that terrible sound. But my curiosity was stronger.

'Be still, in Eru's name!' I heard the enraged command before I saw Aragorn, his back turned, standing over what appeared to be a creature shrinking on the ground. 

I wanted no part of whatever was going - no need to arouse further suspicion - so I quickly turned to leave. Too late. Aragorn spun around, his cross features softening a little as he spotted me.

'My lady…' he began but never finished. 

In the fading daylight I saw something scrawny and skeletal leaping off the ground in my direction. Its skin was a sickening shade of gray and was slick with water. Before I could get a proper look, it was hiding behind my legs. I couldn't be sure if it was a dog, a giant frog, a monkey or all of the above. Whatever it was, it stank and my stomach turned as it pawed at my ankles. 

'Gollum!' Aragorn bellowed as he yanked what appeared to be a rope binding the creature's hands. Gollum hit the ground hard with a formidable thud for one who appeared so emaciated. I cringed as I almost heard the ribs snap from the violence of the impact.

'Aragorn!' the cry of protest left my lips before I could bite it down. Violence against animals revolted me, and the yelp that escaped Gollum reminded me of a beaten dog. 

'Forgive me, Mel. I thought he was going to attack you.' Aragorn said using my name and forgetting all courtesy. It was obvious see that this small but feisty creature was giving him real trouble. 'This is Gollum. He's quite a handful, as you can see' he said, glancing disgustedly at the creature writhing at his feet, tugging at the rope.

'Yes, I can certainly see that' I replied, trying to remember why the creature's name sounded so familiar. He was...I struggled to remember, but I could not…not a thing…strange, I thought. What _was _Gollum's story? I should be able to remember later, I told myself.

Aragorn fastened the rope to a high branch, leaving Gollum hissing and spitting and jerking the rope that seemed to bother him a great deal.

'I was trying to get him to eat something' Aragorn explained 'but clearly he is not interested in elvish food.'

'What does he eat?'

'Fish, for the most part, I think…he's been refusing to eat for quite a few days now. But if he wishes to starve himself to death, that is his choice' he said. ' Can I walk back with you, my lady?'

Courtesy had returned to him, I noted. Also, I had the distinct feeling that he wanted me out of there as quickly as possible.

It was the faintest of whispers and my first reaction was to believe that my ears were playing tricks on me. Yet somehow the mutter reached me as we were walking away. 

'Help..'. 

'Is this the prisoner that you must deliver to Mirkwood?' I asked pretending I had not heard anything and hoping Aragorn had neither. But I couldn't be sure because Aragorn halted for a split second as if wanting to turn around but then resumed walking beside me.

'Yes, my lady' Aragorn replied formally as he led the way. 

'Please call me Mel' I said, 'I am not used to being called my lady. We are a lot more informal in my world, you know. It helps.' 

He smiled in acquiescence and seemed to be at ease. There wasn't much suspicion in his eyes now. If I had looked more attentively, I would have probably found curiosity.

'As you wish, Mel' he said kindly, nodding his head.

I needed Aragorn on my side. That meant I had to gain his trust, or if that proved impossible, at least stay close enough to him to watch and learn as much as I could.

As I lay on my bed that night, still afraid to go to sleep, I tried to remember anything about Aragorn from he books I had read years ago. It was no use. Nothing came to mind. In fact, as I went over the faces I had met that day, I could not recall a single thing about them. It was more than a little frustrating since it was hard to accept that while my body was functioning perfectly, certain areas of my brain could have been affected by the recent events. In the absence of any information on my condition, I decided to put my forgetfulness down to the after effects of shock.

I drifted off to sleep trying to remember…

I woke several times during the night, not because of dreams, but because I was worried by my lack of reminiscence. Every time I would urge myself "This is the last night you are going to spend in a soft bed, enjoy it!" and try to fall asleep again. 

It was early morning when I fell into a deeper sleep but it only seemed like I dozed for a few seconds when I heard urgent yet discreet knocking at my door.

I sat up, startled. We were set to leave at dawn and in all likelihood, I was late.

Elriniel entered the room carrying a tray of cakes and milk.

'Am I late?' 

'No, my lady' the answer came. 'There is still time.' 

In fact, the time proved to be just enough for me to have a quick bath and for her to give my hair a good brush and more plaits, to make my hair more manageable while traveling. Being pampered and her fussing over my hair was relaxing since I was not used to it. 

I made an effort to finish the food. I didn't usually have breakfast until much later in the day, the only thing I ever had in the morning was coffee. And for the first time since I had woken up, I thought about coffee and craved it. Instead I drank the milk, desperately trying to remember how coffee smelled and tasted. 

The elves had given me more comfortable travel gear to wear. It consisted of a pearl-gray shirt of a silky texture, a dark-green leather overcoat, knee-length and beautifully embroidered with silver fiber around the sleeves and collar and a grayish, full-length cloak made of a woolen material, light and soft to the touch. A pair of close fitting leggings and soft leather boots completed this outfit. I had never considered green to look good on me but I could hardly complain about their choice of garments. I assumed I looked as elvish as they came, even without the help of a mirror. 

I quickly slipped into the outfit while Elriniel explained that a pack had been prepared for me with fresh clothes and that it was waiting for me downstairs where the horses were. I was glad to hear we were going to ride. Like all workaholics, I used to drive everywhere, hardly using my legs excepting to surf, which was the only form of exercise I allowed myself as a break in the hectic life I led. Surfing was how I kept my skin tanned all year round, which explained the shock I had when I realized that my skin had lightened a few shades. I presumed that my face was as pale as the rest of my body.

I quickly glanced around the room that had been my home for the past two days, since my life had been irrevocably changed. I looked out the window one last time, hoping to lock the feeling of peace and completeness somewhere in my memory to retrieve it later when I might need it. I had no doubt that it was the last time I would ever see these enchanted woods.

Then I began the long descent to the ground.

~~ 

Tamara sat close to Mel's bed oblivious to the monotonous beeping of the heart monitor. Mel's breathing was even and had it not been for the medical equipment piled around the bed and the drip protruding from her arm, one could have thought she was in a deep sleeping. Tamara watched her friend's still face closely. The ward night-light threw shadows on Mel's face and accentuated her dainty, lean features. 

Much to her chagrin, Tamara had noticed that Mel's sun kissed skin tone was giving way to a slight tinge of gray. The doctors said, nothing to worry about, it was normal in coma patients. 

What is normal in a coma patient? Tamara thought bitterly.

They had assured Tamara that Mel's vitals were fine, she was breathing on her own and that her condition had not worsened, or improved for that matter.

'I wish I could be in there with you.' Tamara sighed. 

She remembered being with Mel inside the game, after she had learned the terrifying truth. How she had gripped Tamara's hand with crushing strength borne of despair and had finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep but not before sighing 'Why me?'. Searing pain had ripped through Tamara's heart and had not really faded away since. And now there was an even lesser chance of getting Mel back.

The minute she was out, she had asked Jerry, the programmer 'You have to try and plug me back into the game.' 

Jerry' fingers were flying across the keyboard frantically, and he did not pause for a second, punching the keys furiously even as he spoke to Tamara. He had been awake for the past seventy hours but he knew that if he spent the next seventy days in front of his computer, it would still make no difference. 

'I can't.' Jerry had said, helplessness evident in his tone. ' I tried to run a patch but it's no use. The game is not responding and…' 

'What…' Tamara gasped. Surely after all this there could be no more bad news.

'Even if I can get the game to respond, it will be useless…'

'What do you mean?' Tamara tensed all over, instinctively bracing herself for what would follow.

'I mean that I can't control it any longer. And Mel is not in the game anymore.'

'Then where is she?'

Jerry shrugged dismally and utterly defeated.

'I honestly don't know, Tame. She's disappeared…'

To Be Continued…


	5. The Tie That Binds

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Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien characters, and I never will L . I am just borrowing them for my own pleasure…Mel is mine though…

A/N: To my Reviewers: Thank you again for the kind words. Mel still has no idea what she is in for, so read on, the pieces will soon fall into place…and please review!!! I have trouble finding names for the chapters, so if they're lame, sorry lol!!

~ 5. The Tie That Binds ~

The clean air and unspoiled landscape mesmerized me throughout the first days of travel. Breathing was sheer pleasure and I tricked my mind into believing that I was drawing the breath of life. All around me was pure unadulterated nature, untouched by anything remotely close to modern life. Once out of the wooden realm of Lothlorien, the sight of softly swelling hills made my eyes water, so bright was their light green hue. 

'We are two weeks away from Mid-Year's day' Gandalf explained when I asked him. 

'It's strange, the woods of Lothlorien made me think of autumn' I mused.

Gandalf smiled and he seemed to me a gentle old man...almost. 

'Yes, the Lady of the woods does like her colors, doesn't she' he said somewhat thoughtfully. It seemed he also delighted in the glorious peace of Lothlorien.

We were travelling North to Mirkwood, realm of the Wood Elves, the place Legolas Greenleaf hailed from, to deliver Gollum to his appointed prison.

His father, Lord Thranduil, had sent Legolas to accompany Aragorn and Gandalf and grant them safe passage through what I was told could be quite a treacherous forest. 

By the end of the first day, we stopped shortly before dusk to set up camp for the night. 

They could probably tell I was a little uncomfortable that I was the only woman from the way I watched Aragorn set up a separate space for me, a little away from where the rest would sleep. He produced three extra blankets for me and built the fire closest to my sleeping space, but no too close to cause discomfort from the smoke.

'Thank you, Aragorn' I said slightly embarrassed.' I believe it's quite obvious that I haven't spent much time sleeping outdoors.'

'It's no trouble, Mel' Aragorn said kindly, yet not patronizingly 'Your bed is ready. You may sleep whenever you wish. I hope it will be comfortable enough' 

I was exhausted yet I felt it impolite to just lie down and doze, even if I struggled to keep my eyes open. Besides, I was still afraid to go to sleep. What if I never woke up?

Legolas secured Gollum's rope to a thick tree before he went off, scouting, I was told.

We sat down while Aragorn kindled a fire and I asked Gandalf about Gollum as I was interested to know more about the strange creature. 

Aragorn left as soon as he had built the fire.

'Where is Aragorn going?' I enquired. 

'Fishing. Food for Gollum, mostly' Gandalf answered. 'That is, if he'll eat it.' He added and I detected a tinge of frustration in Gandalf's tone.

Legolas arrived back shortly afterwards.

'There is nothing in these hills.' He reported, his head slightly tilted and his intense eyes searching the skies as if he was actually sniffing the air. 'Nothing that I can see before or behind us.' Then his mood seemed to darken and he added 'Not yet, anyway.'

I could not shake the feeling that there was a lot more to this journey than I knew. Gandalf must have noticed the look of concern on my face

'Our errand is secret' he explained. 'Gollum was held prisoner in Mordor, and my heart tells me that he did not escape the Dark Land unaided. He was let loose, in all likelihood, and he may well be followed.'

'Followed?' I asked. 'I don't understand. Why? By whom?'

'By orcs' Legolas answered and when I opened my mouth to ask what 'orcs' meant, he quickly explained 'Creatures of the dark, servants of the Dark Lord. Their faces and bodies are grisly and twisted, yet they are far from being inarticulate.'

'They only travel at night, sunlight harms them.' Legolas continued, his expression turning somewhat melancholic. 'Some of them were Elves, imprisoned by the Dark Lord who twisted their bodies and spirits through many hundreds of years of torment.'

The image painted by Legolas was disturbing enough and my heart went out to the Elf whose grief for the fallen members of his race was plain on his face. I had been told that Elves felt the most sorrow out of all races on Middle-Earth yet Legolas' face rarely, if ever, mirrored any of his feelings.

Aragorn returned with four medium sized fish and although I wasn't really hungry the cooked meat tasted surprisingly juicy and but for a lack of spices, it was a great meal. Gollum refused to eat or take water even when Gandalf threatened to force-feed him. Eventually, the wizard placed a raw fish in front of the creature and though Gollum sulked and turned his back, the next time we looked, fish was gone.

It was beyond me where Gollum drew his energy. All day long he had complained about having to travel in sunlight and whined incessantly, tugging at his rope and hissing every time Aragorn or Legolas approached him.

My attempts to keep my eyes open failed miserably and soon after we ate I excused myself and settled down to sleep. I had only slept outside in my early teens when I was sent off to summer camp, but I was too tired now to worry about the surroundings. It seemed like I had only been asleep a few seconds when I opened my eyes and realized it was in fact dawn. The first sound I became aware of was a soft whimper.

As I shook away the warmth of the blankets, the morning chill gave me an involuntary shiver. I wrapped my cloak around me and padded to where the noise was coming from.

Gollum was curled up in a tight ball, fists clasped rigidly across his chest almost as if he was holding something close to his heart as he moaned softly, inarticulately in his sleep. All of a sudden his eyes snapped open and he leapt at me, hissing.

'It's mine, precious!' His whole body arched like a spring about to snap.

Whatever he had been dreaming about, he was still seeing it in front of his eyes as they blazed with all-consuming hunger and a burning desire.

He had probably expected to see one of my other companions because when he laid eyes on me his body sagged and his hate-filled expression subsided. He crouched on the ground averting his gaze.

'You were crying in your sleep and you woke me' was all I could find to say, unsteadily. 

I realized he had not meant to attack me yet I was terrified at the speed and ferocity with which the creature had reacted. I was beginning to understand why it took three vigorous men to deliver him to its prison.

A jeer twisted Gollum's features.

'Dreams are all we have left, mistress. We have nothing else….nothing at all….' He said in a low, rasping tone as his blue-gray eyes opened big and round and searched my face curiously.

I turned to leave but Gollum made a sound that halted me in my tracks. It was a sigh of loss and sorrow that seemed to have erupted from the depths of his being.

'Water…' he begged.

My water pouch was lying next to the fire and I wondered if I could give it to this creature to drink. I looked in vain for another water pouch that might have been allocated to Gollum. There was none. The mere idea of drinking after him made my stomach turn. Who knew what disease Gollum carried? 

But all the same, I lifted the pouch and handed it to Gollum who, instead of drinking, poured some into the palm of his large hand and proceeded to bathe his wrists. It was then that I noticed the grayish skin was raw and bleeding from the bonds. Yet he did not even grimace as he wiped the encrusted blood away. He must have known I was watching because he murmured, without taking his eyes off his task.

'Nasty elvish rope, cuts us. Hurts us so.'

I knew where he was going with this and I was not prepared to indulge him.

'You know I cannot untie you' I said levelly trying to conceal the fact that the sight of his tattered flesh actually disturbed me.

'Mel?' a smooth voice called my name

Legolas was standing beside me and I felt grateful for his rescue.

'Let me show you something' he said and beckoned me to follow him.

He led me up to the stream that was close to our camping place and I found a more isolated spot where I was able to freshen up a little, the icy water feeling wonderfully invigorating. I could have done with a shower but knew I could expect no such luxury. After washing up as best as I could and tucking back loose strands of hair, I noticed Legolas some distance away plucking leaves from a bush, which he then proceeded to eat.

'What are those?' I asked walking over to where he was standing.

He smiled at me and handed me a few. 

'Taste' he invited, watching my reaction closely as I reluctantly put some in my mouth and started chewing them. The leaves tasted so refreshing and cleansing and the unexpected sensation was delightful.

'This is incredible. Tastes better than toothpaste.'

Legolas stared, not understanding.

'It's something we use in my world to keep our teeth clean.' I explained.

'Is that why your teeth are so bright, Mel?' Legolas commented looking straight at my teeth.

I was convinced by his tone that he had not meant it as a compliment. He was merely stating a fact, yet I was not used to this kind of straightforward flattery and, to my slight annoyance, I found it amusing. An elvish male admiring my teeth was definitely not a common occurrence.

Breakfast consisted of elvish way-bread that I learned was called lembas and bits of fish left over from the previous night. I wasn't very fond of it since it was a little dry, but I realized that I could not expect gourmet cooking and it proved to be quite filling. Again I thought about coffee and found myself struggling to recall its taste.

We set out soon after breakfast and although their pace seemed unhurried, I could not help noticing that there was in fact plenty of urgency. I longed to ask them to tell me exactly what was going on but I realized that it was too early for them to trust me with important facts. So I bit my tongue and tried to glean as much as I could from their conversation. After a few hours, I realized even that was futile since they seemed guarded and I suspected it had more to do with Gollum's presence more than mine.

They told me I could ride whenever I felt tired. They preferred to walk and after two days on the road I understood why. My inner thigh muscles became so sore from sitting in the saddle I was convinced I would never walk normally again. After another day of walking, my calf muscles were cramped and my heels were throbbing with pain though it was somewhat more bearable. Preferred pain, I mused. It made me feel alive…

~~

__

(Aragorn's POV )

We travel North.

We do this in spite of wishing that we didn't have to make such a lenghty detour. Our mission lies in precisely the opposite direction…

We walk in silence. Even Gollum has fallen silent since Legolas threatened to gag him. I am grateful that he ceased his constant sniveling, since it would give me no pleasure to have to further abuse him even if he is becoming more of a nuisance with every step.

I have a feeling of great unease about this journey. It is not delivering Gollum to Thranduil's care that worries me. Gollum can yet be controlled. For how much longer, no one knows. He was set loose from Mordor with clear-cut purpose. His closeness to the One Ring proved him to be more useful in tracking it than any Ringwraith. But for now Gollum is in our hands…

I am concerned about Mel. It is obvious she is a strong woman. She has something about her that commands respect, some kind of an edge, yet despair is strong in her too. She does not show it but I know it's there. 

I wonder… can she sense her purpose yet? I cannot speak of it, she must find her own way unless… She asks her questions carefully yet mostly she listens trying to learn as much has she can from what we are not saying. Yet I feel she does not do this with ill thoughts in mind.

It is plain that she never intended to be here. I can see it in her face, in her eyes; this world is so foreign to her as hers might be to us. Yet she appears neither frail nor sick and wants no pity from anyone. She keeps pace with us even if I see her vigor is greatly taxed. But she never complains. 

Galadriel told us that in her world she is asleep, unfeeling and oblivious to all around her. Her affliction is not apparent here. It's just this strange fever burning in her eyes… 

I wonder if she actually lives or she merely exists…

Oddly enough, she reminds me of Arwen in many ways, yet they are as different as night and day. I can feel their kindred spirits. Mel seems to have the same strength and the same resolve, although she is human. Galadriel said so too. I have not come to understand Mel in such a short while but I feel her inner resources might be far more than we give her credit for. It is in her face, mostly in her eyes…

Mel's hair is dark with unusual fair streaks. Even with elven braids framing her face she lacks the serene quality of an elf woman. She does not have Arwen's beauty, her dark green eyes are hard and her face is angular, yet strangely innocent. Her body is lean and sinewy although a little thin. By the way her jaw tightens at times, I can see that she is used to having her way. 

Even Gollum turns his head now and then and watches her wide eyed. I wonder what this miserable creature senses in her. She is no nurturer, yet I see that she feels pity for Gollum, even if he sickens her as he sickens the rest of us. Could she be feeling as lone and unwanted as he does? 

But I suspect that is about to change.

She rides with Legolas who seems to be remarkably enjoying her company. In all the years I've known Legolas he has never taken to someone so quickly. By all means, I have seen him take pleasure in the company of females, human and elvish alike, yet this appears somewhat different. Perhaps because Mel is unlike any woman he's ever known. 

He shows her herbs and flowers, bidding her to taste this and that, telling her stories of his realm and his life. She seems to be comfortable in his company. Her features soften and she is smiling more often, and with ease. She blushes curiously and her face suddenly looks lively.

They laugh as if they share some private joke. 

Gandalf gives me a bemused look yet his smile is jovial.

'Don't look at me, Gandalf' I jest as I wave towards the elf and the woman riding side by side behind us. 'It's your elven prince who's falling under some strange spell. I'd hate having to deliver him to his father in this condition. And indeed you know more about spells than I do.'

'Not about this particular one' Gandalf teases.

Under different circumstances I might have shared a laugh with Legolas. Yet now I should share my experience with my old friend and tell him that which he already knows: human and elven attachments are ill fated. Especially in this situation. Yet it is not my place to interfere. It seems that whatever is taking place brings joy and relief to Mel's life. And I feel that I do not have the right to infringe on it.

~~

A/N: I felt that I had to bring in another person's POV since we don't know much else other than what Mel perceives. Also, this friendship with Legolas will not develop into a conventional romance later on (or should it?????) – just kidding!!!. It is done with a clear purpose. Remember, people in extraordinary circumstances may do desperate things…


	6. A Glimmer In The Water

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Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien characters, and I never will. I am just borrowing them for my own pleasure…Mel is mine though…

A/N : In the beginning, I was quite surprised that people bothered to read my fic, never mind review it! So much so that now I've become addicted to your reviews - lol, so keep them coming!!!!

~ 6. A Glimmer in the Water ~

The mutual reticence between my travel companions and myself was slowly abating and after the first few days I found myself spending increasingly more time with Legolas. He seemed to delight in telling me countless stories and I was astounded at the amounts of experience he possessed. After thousands of years of life he had no cynicism or boredom; he viewed life as a gift yet sadly, he had no children or a family of his own. I admired the quality and enthusiasm with which he spoke about the most trivial and inconsequential things. 

He described Mirkwood, the place of his childhood, at length. I learned more about the ways of Wood elves in the first days than I could have by reading dozens of books. 

In the beginning I admired his inner harmony, his integrity and candor. Yet I saw him stalking his quarry one day when he bid me to accompany him and I understood that this graceful creature, gifted with the looks of a god, could be a merciless hunter. I had no doubt about his speed and ruthlessness in battle. He moved like a dancer, his every step flowing into the next, the economy of movement and the fluidity that he seemed infused with incomparable with that of any human. I found myself secretly admiring how the wind sometimes played in his hair which was braided much like my own, yet strangely never out of place.

In the corner of my eye I saw how Aragorn and Gandalf painstakingly ignored us, and Legolas laughed.

'Do not take notice, Mel. My old friends believe I am under your spell.'

'That's funny. Some witch I am' I sighed 'when I can't even help myself.'

I avoided discussing what he called 'my purpose' though he often asked questions about my world and I explained everything as best I could, including about my favorite pastime.

'Surfing' Legolas mused ' It sounds so dangerous and so breathtakingly beautiful at the same time. And to be all alone in the sea, that is quite a feat.'

'It is exhilarating' I agreed. 'I learnt to surf as a child and its second nature to me. I love the ocean and the waves. I feel in control yet swept away at the same time.' 

He was fascinated by what I had told him, the notion alien yet appealing at the same time.

'You'd like it too, I'm sure' I added and tried hardest not to imagine this superb specimen riding the waves on a surfboard.

'I have never beheld the sea in spite of living many lives of men in this world.' His eyes searched the depth of the horizon as for the first time in my life I understood what was meant by wanderlust. 'One day,' he continued 'when my travels take me there, I will remember the tale you told me'

While this fondness I was developing towards Legolas was enjoyable, it was going to remain exactly that and shape into nothing more. I appreciated his attention yet I perceived that the way he was regarding me had nothing to do with infatuation or even remotely resembled attraction. His gaze was open, pleasant but mostly it was curious and I had no reasons to doubt his honesty. There were no sidelong glances, or undertones of any kind, I never felt his gaze examining my body, and any compliments he paid me seemed purely observation on his part.

There was a lot more to him than I saw or believed or that I was willing to explore, for that matter. My life was complicated enough….

A week into the journey, my companions decided that I had become reliable enough to carry a weapon. Legolas handed me a long white-sheathed knife, one of a pair that he kept on him at all times. It was beautifully crafted and undoubtedly deadly.

'For your protection' he said closing my hand around it. I assumed it was a gift, from the puzzled look Aragorn gave him.

'Thank you, Legolas. It's beautiful' I said, trying to accept it gracefully and not let on that I would be more of a danger to myself handling this exquisite weapon than to whoever might attack me.

I unsheathed the knife halfway and admired its shiny blade. 'There is a belief in one of the countries of my world that a knife or a sword should never be unsheathed unless they are going to be used.*' I tried to steer the discussion away from my non-existent blade skills all the while hoping that I would never truly have to pull this knife out in defense.

'That is very wise indeed' Legolas reflected.

'Are you accustomed to such weapons, Mel?' Aragorn asked, as if reading my mind.

'I am not a warrior' I admitted as I asked myself how best to explain my way of life to them. 'In my world, I am a lawyer' It seemed so difficult to translate what I had always taken for granted in my life.

'Lawyer' Gandalf pronounced it 'loya' as he smoked his pipe and listened to my inept explanation.

'It's really nothing special,' I said as I finished ' There are a lot of lawyers in my world. Too many, if you ask me.'

'That means there is a lot of squabble in your world.' Aragorn drew the wise conclusion.

'Too much,' I agreed 'and over silly things, mostly. But I shouldn't complain, that is what keeps a roof over my head.'

'What is the chief cause of discord in your world then?' Gandalf wanted to know.

'I'd have to say greed, the desire for power at all cost and intolerance that leads to hatred' I answered. 

'Not so different than in our world' Gandalf sighed. 

'Well' the wizard said with sudden liveliness, 'now that you have Legolas' knife, you will no doubt want to be hunting tomorrow.' We all laughed.

'In that case' I replied 'we'd better eat our fill now, because tomorrow we will no doubt go hungry' 

They all laughed good-naturedly, no trace of derision or contempt in their attitude. I was touched by their straightforward manner and truthfulness.

'I find it odd that you have to keep a house by yourself' Aragorn interjected. 'How about your family, who looks after them?'

'I have no family to speak of, except maybe Tamara who is like a sister to me' I sighed. 'My parents live far away and I am unmarried.' I added striving to sound casual. 'It is quite common for women my age to be unmarried. We are too busy for romantic entanglements.' I chuckled uncomfortably. I was not used to laying my life bare in front of strangers or explaining my choices yet I realized that none of them passed judgment on me of any kind. While I was forever suspicious of them…

They were not primitive in their thinking. Their world was just ordered in a different manner. 

The next morning I woke before everyone else. We had camped close to a small lake and I had decided to attempt an early morning swim. I needed to feel water on my body, to wash off some of the sweat and dust that matted my hair. 

The lake was no more than a pond, yet judging by the dark green hue of the water, it was reasonably deep. The sun was still hidden behind the hills that were getting steeper and steeper as we advanced in our journey. The air still smelled fresh, but its purity was marred by a harsh, stark quality. I expected that we had been slowly climbing and the altitude was changing the texture of the air as well. I was used to living at sea level and this potent air made me feel more exhausted that normal.

I found a secluded spot on the far side of the lake and started peeling off my clothes. I stared into the still surface before I touched the water and my pale face and body brought all the memories of what Tamara had said flooding back. I had been traveling in the sun for days and by now I would have to at least restore some the sun kissed color on my face. 

Only the truth was that I was lying in a coma in a hospital ward, not walking in the sun and the cool morning air, the mountain lake, and everything that surrounded me in majestic beauty was in fact a crafty computer-generated illusion.

I wished the self-pity away as I dived in and the thermal shock that ran through my body helped to achieve that. I plunged underwater nevertheless and swam forcefully towards the other side.

Before long, I had warmed up while my body reveled in the chilly water that swathed it. My pallid skin made an odd contrast in the clear green water. I could not see the bottom yet my eyes caught a faint beacon-like glint, somewhere in the depth. Intrigued, I sunk under the surface, eyes open, struggling to distinguish shapes. There was no plant or animal life. 

Only the dance of light in the water and the golden glow that emanated from the depth… I swam deeper, the glimmer closer and closer yet I was unable to make out what it was. I had to go up for air while the pressure of the depth manifested itself by a painful throb in my ears… yet my body seemed to submit entirely to the strange curiosity. I thought… just a little deeper…maybe I'll see what it is… 

It was so close now, and while my lungs begged for air, my mind willed my body to go on. Whatever it was, it faintly resembled a coin at the bottom of a wishing well

So positive that I could hold out for a few more seconds before my heart burst from the effort, I was oblivious to the darkness that surrounded me as I sank deeper and the light now shimmered stronger than ever… I have to breathe…swim up! I saw the bottom…it was so close now… I stabbed out my arm blindly… and suddenly it was gone and I was left clutching at the muddy bottom, my air supply finished while my body was already becoming sluggish and unresponsive….swim up! One last ounce of strength left and I kicked violently against the bottom as I whirled my arms and shot to the surface. 

Don't panic! I forced myself to think as my lungs screamed from the abuse and after what seemed an eternity I broke the surface, sucking the air in big choking gasps. I floated awhile, like I always did when I was exhausted in the water, not having the strength to move. Never in my life had I been so close to drowning and I'd had some close calls when surfing…Black and yellow splotches swam before my eyes and I prayed I would not pass out and force my companions to rescue me. I also did not wish to have to offer any explanations for my rash behavior.

Soon enough the world came back into focus and the nausea was replaced by uncontrollable sobs. _There was no golden relic at the bottom of the lake_, save a dance of sunlight in the water that had appealed to me as a possible way out. Maybe I should have lingered there a moment longer, half-drowned as I was and maybe that would have been enough to start a chain reaction that would return me – awake! – to my world…

I swam back agonizingly slow and washed my face several times trying to obliterate any signs of the dreadful experience before I staggered towards the camp. 

~~

Several days into our voyage, I found that I was able to keep my eyes open for a while after we ate dinner and being naturally curious, I began asking questions. The exchange of stories became a pleasant past time before we settled own for the night. Yet as we talked, it became more and more clear that my memory was slowly failing me.

It started with little things, like the layout of my house, my bedroom curtains, the color of my floor tiles… they were gone. Then it was the location of my house, the name of my city, ….my favorite color. Then came the one that disturbed me the most: Tamara's face. I knew _about_ her, she was still in my head, but if I closed my eyes no matter how hard I concentrated, I could not picture her face. I remembered she had blue eyes, sad blue eyes, I remembered her being there the day I woke up in Lorien, yet she was as faceless to me now as any stranger.

I wept long into the night the day Tamara's face finally faded completely from my memory and when I realized that I did not even recall what a lawyer was supposed to be doing, let alone how I had managed to be one all those years.

I still slept some distance away from the rest so when I got up and started pacing around, Gandalf, who was keeping watch for the first part of the night, noticed the state I was in. I also realized that I could not hide my memory loss for much longer. It was a matter of time before the others would notice and suspicion would arise if I left it unexplained. Gandalf's voice snapped me out of my contemplation.

'You are troubled, Mel' It was a statement, not a question and it brought fresh tears to my eyes.

I was silent for a while as I sat down next to him.

'Do you mind?' I said as I stretched out my hand and took hold of his pipe.

'Not at all, I saw you watching us smoke and I was wondering when you would ask. Do women smoke in your world?' Gandalf smiled amiably as he handed me the unusually long pipe.

'Some of them do.' I answered. 'This one certainly does.' 

For all its uncanny shape, the pipe tasted rich and sweet, the smoke soothing and warm. I knew better than to ask what was in it.

'I'm losing my memory, Gandalf' I said despondently, feeling guilty for laying this on him. 'And I don't know how to deal with it, I don't know if it means that my brain is shutting down in the… other world?' For a moment I loathed sounding overly dramatic.

'Forgetfulness-' the old wizard said, his voice gentle. 'I wish I could tell what it means. It could mean a lot of things.'

He studied my face 'I do not think it is all bad or that something is happening to you in your world.'

'I can't think of a better explanation' I tried to sound detached but without success, I could hear it in my own quivering voice.

'I can.' Gandalf said, a benign look in his intense gray eyes. 'You are justified to have these fears.'

The gentle old man I had only glimpsed before was there again and it felt comforting to talk to him

'You are learning about this world that is so unlike your own and your mind is opening up to change. This in itself is a good sign. Many races of this world, even the Firstborn, the Elves, are so unwilling to adapt that they prefer fading away and leaving Middle-Earth rather than welcoming change.'

'I don't understand. Could I be learning more about this world because I have no chance of going back?'

'That I do not know.' Gandalf replied somewhat regretfully. 'But you can choose to deem this experience encouraging and find some hope in it'

'I don't think I can do that.' I said staring fixedly into the dying fire. 'I have to believe there is a way back to my world, but if I cannot remember where that is, there will be nothing for me to hold on to.'

I still clutched Gandalf's pipe, drawing the smoke into my lungs frantically like a condemned prisoner before his execution.

'You were sent here with a purpose. And I believe that this purpose will be revealed to you sooner than you think.' 

"You don't understand" I wanted to scream only I bit my lip until I tasted blood "this world that you call your own… it doesn't exist, Gandalf…. I am just imaging it…none of us are really here…"

Instead I said, 'I don't know who I am anymore…'

Tears of rage at the unfairness of it all burned my cheeks, as a massive wave of nausea racked my stomach. I understood that I could never voice my thoughts. How would I ever be able to share what I knew with a certainty that was more undeniable than my life itself? It was the one thing I remembered clearly, the one thing burned in my memory like hot iron buried into living flesh. It was always going to be there, until I drew my last breath... _I was lost here, in my own mind, imagining all this._

TBC

A/N *: The Japanese believe that a samurai sword should only be fully unsheathed if it is to be used. That is what Mel referred to when she got Legolas' knife.

In case you were wondering about Mel's memory loss, the explanation will be in the next chapter!


	7. Precious Memories

__

Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien characters, and sadly I never will. I am just borrowing them for my own pleasure and hopefully for yours…Mel is mine though…

A/N: Dy (you're so sweet!), Maverick Girl (btw - I'm reading your story now – it's good!), Corrina, elanor (I was so touched by your words), Dragon, samus, and all the other faithful readers who are kind enough to grace my little box with their reviews. Keep up the feedback, it's great to know what you think!

~ 7. Precious Memories ~

It was not long before Aragorn and Legolas found out about my conversation with Gandalf and about my fading memory. I avoided them both the next day, afraid to even glance in their direction lest I saw pity in their eyes and lashed out at them in reaction to my own weakness. I must have appeared terribly immature to them but I dealt with it the only way I knew how, and that was to keep quiet and isolate myself. It occurred to me that I must have done that a lot in my past life since it came so naturally. I started referring to my world as my past life since I was beginning to believe that going back there was as likely as being literally thrown back into a previous existence.

Mercifully, they all respected my space and left me alone.

We made camp a little later than usual that night and I wondered why. Throughout the day, both Aragorn and Legolas had glanced around apprehensively, concentrating on every sound, exchanging looks as if fully expecting some sinister force to pounce on us. A feeling of unease was slowly creeping into my heart but I refrained from asking what caused their concern.

As the camp was set up for the night, Legolas and Aragorn left us once more, dashing off in opposite directions. With increasing alarm I watched them as they donned more weapons before disappearing into the hills. It was clear enough that this was no hunting session. Scouting, more like it.

'What's happening? Why….' I began to ask but the words froze on my lips as Gandalf gave me a look of admonition.

'We might be followed' the wizard muttered under his breath.

By whom? And why? I wanted to ask but bit back my words as I followed the wizard's eyes that rested on Gollum. He had been acting strangely all day. I had not paid much attention to him yet if I had to think about it, it was precisely his unusual silence and lack of complaint that was so bewildering. It was almost like he wasn't with us at all, so trouble-free and quiet had the day been. 

We had not spoken since I had given him water, yet as we walked he would often fall in step with me, as much as his bonds allowed and sought my eyes. His behavior was bizarre at best and he remained an enigma to me.

Aragorn and Legolas returned after a short while.

'Nothing' Aragorn reported to Gandalf 'Still…' he shook his head, unsure of what to say and visibly troubled.

'I have a dreadful feeling.' Legolas said, his smooth face intent and worried. His keen eyes searched the hills and the rock face under which we had made shelter, not able to detect whatever he was looking for. This seemed to unsettle him greatly and for the first time since the beginning of our journey shadows of exhaustion marked his finely chiseled features.

'There is something foul in these hills, something that does not belong here.' He continued. 'I fear that before long we will discover who or what it is that is following us.'

This exchange took place some distance away and I realized that the three wanted to be out of Gollum's earshot. What was it about Gollum that made them act so guarded?

In spite of growing exhaustion, I was denied sleep again. If in the beginning I had spurned sleep for fear of not waking up, soon the refuge of slumber became a cherished activity and I strove to empty my mind of the day's turmoil, as I lay wrapped in the blankets that Aragorn dutifully arrayed for me every night. I did not want to stir or attract attention, much as I sought to quell my demons. I could not shake the feeling of dread as my three companions were worried about some impending danger that I could not see, a knowledge that they would not share freely.

I wished I could stroll around the camp, but I wanted to avoid talking to Legolas. It was his turn to keep watch and I did not want to explain anything to him about my memory loss.

Tossing and turning, I caught a glimpse of the elf sitting by the fire, still as a stone carving. I strained my eyes to get a better look and to my utter surprise, I realized that Legolas was sleeping. I had long ago learned that elves do not close their eyes when they sleep, seeming forever awake, yet his glassy, vacant look left no room for doubt: he was in deep slumber. It had never occurred to me that elves could be overcome by weariness to such an extent. 

So I decided to sit next to Legolas and watch the best I could. I would wake him closer to the time when Aragorn was supposed to start his watch. Although I had offered to keep vigil, they had courteously declined; stating that they would be uncomfortable sleeping while a lady guarded them. Besides, their senses were infinitely sharper than mine.

To my slight annoyance, soon after I had settled cross-legged by the fire, enjoying the solitude of my own thoughts, I heard a throaty hiss behind me.

'Missstresss…'

'What do you want, Gollum?' I tried to sound harsh and irritated, which in fact I was. I did not want him or anyone else intruding on my contemplation.

'We can help mistress…' Gollum continued in an urgent, pleading tone.

'What do you mean?' I asked doubtfully. How could this creature possibly help me, except exasperate me to death?

'Can't …mistress must come closer' Gollum said, his voice clearer and devoid of its familiar hoarseness.

'All right.' I sighed as I rose and padded across to the spot where he was tied. I hoped he would not try to talk me into untying him - again.

'Now' I said as I sat closer to him, yet at what I judged to be a safe enough distance 'you better tell me what you mean, or else…' 

I resented the sudden nastiness in my voice. Surely this abject creature felt lonely to some extent, in spite of being corrupted and essentially despicable. After learning his story from Gandalf, I believed he was more of a victim than anything else. Besides, I had no illusion that given enough latitude he would not hesitate to inflict great harm on us all, still I just could not bring myself to abuse him, even in words.

'I didn't mean that' I said a tinge apologetically.

'Mistress…' he began, but I interrupted swiftly.

'Don't call me mistress. My name is Mel.'

His huge eyes blinked fast several times as he stared at me, pupils wide in amazement.

'Mel.' He repeated. 'My name was…' he hesitated, ' …is… Smeagol.' 

~~

I lay absently studying the stars scattered on the summer sky, the constellations clearer than I had ever seen before. It felt like all I had to do was stretch my arm and they would fall right into my palm. It was only their positions that seemed a little odd. The Middle-Earth sky was an inverted mirror image of the sky in my world.

But now my mind was not troubled by the twinkle of misaligned stars. 

Gollum's words only a few hours before, the revelations he had made rang in my ears again and again with ruthless intensity. 

__

'Smeagol' I said, trying to sound gentle yet unwavering ''I told you before I cannot help you. Whatever you are hoping to achieve by trying to tangle me in your schemes is not going to work.'

'I was going to ask no such thing' Smeagol said, his protest still a rasp yet fluent and articulate.

His enormous eyes seemed to occupy more than half his face, the pupils so dilated that blue was only visible at the tinges. No hatred was mirrored there, only an odd kind of curiosity.

'They lie to you, Mel. They lie and they deceive you, they treat you no better than they treat me…only you don't know it.'

'What do you mean?'

'They speak of purpose, yet they know…yes, they know.'

'What purpose?' I was growing impatient with Smeagol's little games and his version of the truth yet I had to pry it out of him before the others became aware of our conversation. A mere stir from any of them would undoubtedly be enough for Gollum to clam up permanently.

'They need you. They think you are their one chance to destroy evil.'

'You're delusional, Smeagol. I have no idea what you are talking about let alone how to destroy evil. Let's say I'm not exactly qualified.'

'Oh, but you are!' Gollum countered his voice now above a whisper. For a moment I thought that the others would wake, in fact for a brief instant I hoped they would, just so that someone would put an end to these riddles Gollum delighted in.

I wondered where he was going with this and could not help but feel my skin crawling at his proximity. I had the distinct feeling that I was at the mercy of a madman.

'No more games, Smeagol!' I demanded, frustration and annoyance plain in my voice. 'Out with it!'

Gollum cowered and again I had to control myself. Surely he could not be scared of me. I was not about to hurt him and I thought he had understood that.

'They wanted to know about my cave, yesss, precious' Smeagol began.

'What cave?'

'The cave I was hiding in for many years…when…when…' his voice faltered and he clutched at his throat, battling to breathe. 'When we.. ssstill.. had… it…' he stammered his voice progressively becoming a whisper again…

'Had what?' impatience was getting the better of me. And Gollum's little act was taking a disturbing turn.

Gollum glanced furtively around before forcefully jerking the rope that bound him; seeking to inch closer to me, even as the elven cord cut viciously into his wrists and I plainly saw, in the half-light of the fire, dark red blood oozing from freshly scraped skin.

Rooted to the spot, I watched him in fascination and revulsion, until he was straight in front of me, eyes riveted on mine, his small body rigid into a froglike posture while one injured hand balled into a fist, as if holding something.

'Had what? Smeagol?' I repeated.

'My Precioussss…..' he hissed and for the briefest of instants I believed he would attack me. 

In a flash of red light, Gollum's face disappeared from my sight and was replaced by a blinding circle of fire irresistible in its brilliance and crushing in its simple beauty. Yet so familiar… I knew exactly where I had seen it before…at the bottom of the lake, where I had almost drowned. It was gone in a split second and Gollum's colorless eyes were level with mine again.

'Get away from me!' I pushed him aside not caring if I was brutal as the contact with his skin and blood sent waves of nausea through my body. 

'You're insane.' I barked trying my hardest to gather my wits. I wanted to put as much distance as possible between me and this creature that was infecting me with its dreadful sickness.

'Yesss, yessss, we're mad,…' Gollum countered unabated while his whole body shuddered fiercely, my own aggressiveness ignored 'the Precious made uss so…yesss..we wants it… IT'S HERE… THEY have it… one of them has It…we can feel it….we wants it….' He choked, making strange gurgling sound and then howled 'we hates it….we needs it, precious…Mel, Mel….please… let us see it, just once…we wants it so bad….'

'Get a hold of yourself, Smeagol! I can't give you anything, I don't have it!' 

He was in the throes of a self-induced seizure and for a moment I panicked thinking he would seek to hurt himself or possibly even me.

It struck me that through all this, not one of my companions had even stirred in their sleep. The silence around us was unnatural, sepulchral almost.

Was this a nightmare? I hoped that it was and that I would wake up screaming rather than have to live with the knowledge that all this was real.. 

Yet I had to find the strength to somehow persuade this possessed creature to finish his story because I had a feeling it would prove to be crucial to my situation.

'Smeagol…' I began, trying to sound comforting and hide the horror I felt. 'Please, calm down.' 

After a few moments, Gollum's thrashing subsided and was replaced by racking sobs.

'Mistress,…Mel,..' he was incoherent and he had to start again 'We cannot help it, no… not when the Precious is.. so close.'

'I understand, Smeagol' I lied, only to appease him. I would never even come close to understanding this wretched soul, so consumed by this appalling lust …'Now tell me! What cave-'

'You understand, Mel… I know you do…' Gollum whispered, his eyes gleaming coldly and mad with desire. 'You saw it too…the circle of light….the Ring?'

'How did… you…. know?' I choked on my words. Before I could protest or even form another thought searing thirst gripped me with the force of an iron claw clutching my throat. I had to drink something before I could even draw another breath…I groped for my water pouch but my vision darkened and I saw that what I was in fact achingly stretching out my hand for was the dreadful circle of light, so close yet just out of my reach.

Gollum's voice came from far away.

'I know…because it is also in my mind….all the time…'

I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut until it hurt, refusing to be part of this collective hallucination. Whatever was happening, I wanted no part of it. I opened my eyes. There was nothing there but Gollum and me. The vision was gone, the only remnant of it mirrored in Gollum's feverish stare. 

'Smeagol, please,…' I implored with misery creeping back in my voice. 'You were telling me about your cave, many years ago..?' I offered helpfully.

'The cave, yes….and the waterfall….' Gollum stared right through me, envisaging a place that no doubt meant a great deal to him 'We spent many years wondering about that waterfall, didn't we, precious,…was it true?…that the waterfall was…'

Please, don't stop now, I prayed. I knew with certainty now that whatever Smeagol was about to say would change everything

'It was a….' Gollum's trance ended abruptly, his eyes went dark, the image gone and once more his eyes rested on me. He must have noticed the keen, pained look on my face because a shadow of malice crossed his features.

'Please, Smeagol' I begged. 'Don't let it do this. Just this once…'

Smeagol lowered his gaze and started pawing at my feet the same way he had done the first time I saw him. He finally spoke, his tone muffled and defeated.

'It was a gateway,…. A passage to another world…'

To Be Continued

A/N: Hope you liked this one, even more explanations to follow in the next chapter, oh, and yes, it is going to get worse…in case you were wondering. Any suggestions??? I am also striving not to make this sound Mary-Sue-ish since I really like flawed characters and hopefully I've depicted Mel as a real person. But don't let me go on boring you with this. Better review this chapter lol!!!


	8. Desperate Choices

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters or locations. Mel is mine though!

A/N: I begin this again with thanks to all those who reviewed: Maverick Girl, samus, dancingfae, sheshomarru, corrina. The reason why there haven't been any updates in two weeks is because I'm currently on holiday and I've also been busy writing a new fic (it's called "Memory of Trust', if you have time, please check it out). 

I hope you enjoy what's coming. I will say this: Mel thought she had problems….

~ Chapter 8 - Desperate Choices  ~

The next day's march seemed to go on forever and for the first part of the day I hoped the others didn't think I was slowing them down. After awhile, I stopped caring altogether since I felt numb and completely lost to the world around me.  

In a twisted way I was grateful to Gollum. He forever devised something to distract my companions and push them over the verge of irritation. For my part, I tried to ignore him as best as I could except now and again I felt his eyes pierce the back of my head.

After endless sniveling and belligerent behavior, Legolas held Gollum down while Aragorn gagged him. It was hardly the end of our troubles. Once gagged, Gollum thrashed about so much that it was impossible to make him walk. If we wished to a mile further that day, he would have to be dragged along or carried. And since none of the others was willing to do that, Aragorn grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and plunked him on a horse. The animal reared like bitten by a snake and sent Gollum flying straight into a rock face. Again I heard the awful crunch of bone as body and stone collided.

Aragorn immediately gave me an anxious look, and it almost made me laugh. He remembered our little exchange in Lothlorien and my reaction to his mistreatment of Gollum. Except now there was little I wished to share with any of them. Mixed feelings waged war inside my mind and at that particular moment wrath had the upper hand. With great effort, I managed to control myself and not spit out harsh words I would surely regret later.

'Miserable creature!' Gandalf blurted out in frustration as he stood over Gollum 'What will it take to have you sit still!' 

'Cruelest humanssss' Gollum hissed 'You will burn, yes, precious, burn you will, .. When the orcses catch you…'

The silence that fell amongst us was so deep I doubted anyone actually breathed and it occurred to me that my three companions were weighing Gollum's words carefully.

'What does he mean?' I asked no one in particular.

Aragorn wrenched Gollum off the ground and shook him violently as if he expected the answers to fall out of him.

'Speak, you wretch.' He spat, 'Who is behind us and how did they pick up our trail?'

Gollum cowered on the ground and lowered his eyes, yet made no sound.

'Are we being followed? How Many? Since when?' all three asked their questions at the same time yet Gollum remained silent.

'We can make you talk and you know it' Aragorn threatened and there was no doubt that he meant it. Aragorn did not strike me in the least as the violent type, yet it was obvious that a lot was at stake now. The warning hit home and Gollum raised his eyes, fear and a memory of some old torture mirrored in them. He shrunk to the ground, folding his arms across his chest and pawing at the purple whip marks on his back. Then he raised his eyes and they were filled with spite again. I was expecting him to lash out and snarl abuse at Aragorn, but he didn't.

He just glowered at the Ranger then slowly, agonizingly turned his head towards me and caught my eyes. He could probably read the aversion I felt for him yet he did not seem fazed by that.

'Mistress hasn't told you, has she?' he pointed one of his long wiry fingers accusingly at me.

'Oh, shut up, Smeagol..' I blurted out and immediately knew that I had sounded like we shared some foul secret. 

Calling Gollum by his long-forgotten name elicited surprised and uneasy looks from my companions and I felt peculiarly guilt-ridden. 

'Mel?' Legolas questioned gently but disbelief and uneasiness mingled in his voice.

'What is he talking about, Mel?' Gandalf asked, a tinge of asperity clear in his tone.

I bit my lip in an attempt to find the right words. I had resolved to tell them about my conversation with Gollum only once the creature had been safely delivered to the realm of Legolas' father. But Gollum's revelation about enemies following us had given a whole new meaning to the word 'urgency' and indeed I was quite positive that our plans, and direction of travel for that matter, were about to change drastically. 

Aragorn stared blankly at me and I was relieved to more surprise than distrust in his stern gray eyes. What was it that the Ranger knew?

'Well-' I began hesitantly.

'We have no time for explanations now' Aragorn interrupted swiftly. 'We don't know how many are on our trail. We should get away from here as soon as possible.'

In less than five minutes, we were on our horses, galloping away. Aragorn had strapped a squealing Gollum in the saddle directly in front of him and, with immense effort, had managed to prevent the horse from tossing them both.

'We'll take the shortcut through the Forest. It will give us an advantage of three days' he said and from the look he got from both Legolas and Gandalf I deducted it was a desperate choice. I had no time to wonder why, when Legolas physically lifted me off the ground, effortlessly, as if I weighed nothing and settled me on his horse.

'Ride with me' he breathed 'we'll travel faster that way.'

I was no fast rider, I agreed but, fear and uncertainty aside, I felt uncomfortable and slightly aggravated at being treated like a helpless child who needed constant protection and supervision. 

We rode for hours until I grew so tired that any feeling of dread or awkwardness I might have had melted away. We stopped at dusk, the horses tested to their limits.

The cave where we took shelter for the night was damp and chilled me to the bone. I had had time to consider and had decided that the best course of action was to tell my companions all about my conversation with Gollum the previous night.

~~

Legolas and Aragorn took turns inspecting the surroundings, again reporting nothing when they returned. But worry and apprehension clearly marked their features and for the first time I saw something else: doubt. Did they doubt they were ever going to accomplish that which I now knew was a mission crucial for the survival of their world?

When we had settled, they began interrogating Gollum. For all their harsh tone and threats, the creature remained obstinately silent, sharing nothing of what he knew.

'You leave us no choice, Gollum!' it was clear that Aragorn was seething, his anger barely masked. 'We may yet be gentler than the orcs of Mordor who tortured you senseless, but you WILL talk before the end. By Elbereth, it gives me no pleasure to do this to you, but I'm asking for the last time: who is following us? How did they manage to stay concealed from us for the length of our journey??'

'I might be able to answer that' Gandalf said unexpectedly. The wizard had been studying the skies all day and had been silent all along. Now he glanced at us gently yet mournfully and he seemed like a parent who had to tell his children that every last one of their hopes and dreams had been shattered. Gandalf looked old, care-worn and stooped by enormous responsibility.

'You don't mean…' Legolas whispered, his face and lips turning gray.

'I think he does, Legolas.' Aragorn replied not taking his eyes off Gandalf's face.

'What is it?' I was tired of riddles and the reaction of my companions had caused inexplicable fear form in the pit of my stomach. Could this situation get any worse that it already was?

'Nazgul. Ringwraiths…' Gandalf explained looking at me 'closest servants of the Dark Lord… and orcs following….'

'That is what I felt' Legolas agreed. 'Yet I cannot see them anywhere.'

'Yes, they must be at least two day behind us.' Aragorn agreed.

Legolas's keen eyesight could see depths and distances that most telescopic sights could not even come close to. Thanks to that quality, we found solace in the knowledge that the enemy was not upon us. Not yet. 

'I should ride ahead and ask my father to send out a company of soldiers to meet us, for protection.' Legolas offered. 'It will take me five days to get there. In the meanwhile you change course and head for the Misty Mountains and we shall meet halfway in about seven days from now.'

'Our great advantage lay in anonymity' Aragorn disagreed 'We cannot tread through these woods with a company of soldiers protecting us, it would be too plain that we have something of great value to protect.'

Aragorn glanced in my direction uneasily and I glared right back at him. Gandalf frowned at us like at a pair of rival siblings. Clearly this was not the time for a confrontation.

Before any of us could utter a word, Legolas cut in.

'We need more protection, Aragorn. You know it as I do. What use will secrecy be when the Enemy rushes us and we are outnumbered twenty to one?'

'Legolas is right' Gandalf concurred. 'What hope we had in secrecy is now gone. We need help and we need it as soon as we can get it. Continuing onwards to Thranduil's realm is sadly no longer an option for us. We will have to change our course towards the Misty Mountains and meet a week from now.' The urgency and resolve in the wizard's voice left no room for argument. 

Aragorn nodded, albeit reluctantly. His dignified face was lined with fatigue like never before. In fact our whole group looked pitiful. We were filthy and worn out from the hours of galloping, our horses frothing at the mouth. The only horse fit to travel was mine, since I had ridden with Legolas and spared the beast the burden of my weight. 

'We expected this when we set out, after all' Aragorn reflected wistfully. Then he raised his head and locked eyes with Legolas. It seemed to me like he was making his most dire choice yet.

'Go, then, Legolas.' Man and elf grasped each other's arms in a display of brotherhood 'Ride like the wind, and don't look back'*

Legolas bowed briefly to Gandalf then did something unexpected. With infinite gentleness, he touched my face with his palm and traced the outline of my lips with his thumb.

'I hope to see you again, mellon nin. Namarie' he said and his face displayed boundless sorrow and a glimpse of vulnerability I had never imagined he possessed. In that moment, perhaps because of the severity of our situation or because of the closeness we had formed, I felt defenseless and exposed like never before. 

I fought back tears and gazed closely at him, longing to halt time and lock his image inside a protected portion of my brain where the icy claws of this progressive amnesia would never reach. 

I could not shake the feeling that it was the last time I would ever see him like that.

He was gone in an instant, swiftly and silently as a ghost and I was grateful that he had not lingered to hear what foolish words I might have said.

I must have been staring fiercely at the darkness that had engulfed Legolas for Gandalf touched my shoulder protectively and bid me to sit by the fire.

'I think the time has come to shed the mantle of secrecy between us.' He said softly yet firmly and I knew the truth had to come out.

'Very well' I agreed. I looked Gandalf in the eye and felt justifiably intimidated by the pools of wisdom in the wizard's yes.

'I know about the Ring.' I said unemotionally yet inwardly fighting a losing battle to keep calm. 'I know that one of you has it and I know what you mean to do with it.'

I scanned their faces for a reaction. Gandalf had expected it, as had the Ranger. Aragorn nodded his head with a sigh while Gandalf continued to smoke his pipe impassively.

'You should have told me about it' I said while sudden bitterness gripped me. 'Instead of lying to me and filling my head with tales.' 

I felt perfectly justified to vent my anger at being lied to and used.

'My purpose, that's what you all proclaimed. My purpose that was going to be revealed before long' I scoffed 'You told me stories, you used the fact that I was lonely and scared and knew nothing of your world. But all along you had a clear plan of action. But Gollum told me about it. You never counted on that, did you??' 

A fresh surge of wrath welled up inside me and I let it carry me away with a feeling of irrepressible elation.

'I told you that I was losing my memory,  Gandalf, and you encouraged me to find some hope in it...! You even got Legolas to spend time with me and keep me distracted. That' I spat, 'was despicable.'

'If we lied to you, you must know it brought us no pleasure. It was for your protection. And Legolas did not…' Aragorn began in a conciliatory tone but I interrupted rudely.

'Protect me? From what? From the Ring? From myself? Did you actually think I would want to take It?' I heard my own laughter sounding shrill, hysterical almost at the utter madness of the thought. 'What would I ever do with the Ring? Rule the world? Your world?? Don't you understand? There is nothing I want here.'

'Everybody wants something, Mel' Gandalf said quietly.

The wizard's sensible words yanked me back to reality. My heart threatened to jump out of my chest and my eyes burned agonizingly. A splitting headache throbbed around my temples. I had worked myself up into a state of near-hysteria and it bothered me a great deal since that was not in my character. I willed myself to steady my breathing and to clear my head of this inexplicable rage that had taken me over, against my better judgment.

The words I spoke were barely a whisper yet they rang in my head with the might of a thousand thunder-rolls.

'I want to find my way back home,...'

The reality check set in, the cloud of madness was lifted from my eyes, unmistakably revealing my outburst for exactly what it was.

Why had I been so disturbed by their lack of trust? I wasn't one of them, after all. They could not have entrusted the knowledge of the Ring's existence to me. I had been tested all along…

Gandalf nodded, no doubt perceiving what I thought, his gaze dismal yet supportive.

"The Ring gnaws at our innermost desires. You crave neither to overpower nor to rule, Mel.  Your only wish is to find safe passage back to your world. The Ring robbed you of your memories, of your will to go on and find a way back to a world you can no longer recall. It is the one thing in you it can strike at.'

'The Ring is working its evil, barely discernible to us yet to deny it would be folly.' Weariness and a strange resignation were mirrored in the old gray eyes as he continued. 'We can only see how it changes others, how they are becoming less and less themselves and how they are overstepping their normal boundaries. It is happening to every one of us, without exception.'

Not to you, Gandalf, I thought but instead asked 'How did you come by it?' 

'It was kept for many years by a trusted friend of mine, Bilbo Baggins, a Hobbit of the Shire, who in turn found it in Gollum's cave almost 60 years ago.** But it was becoming too hazardous for him to keep it. The Enemy had caught Gollum and through torture, they pried the truth out of him. The Ring was no longer safe in the Shire so Bilbo gave it up to my safekeeping, albeit with great difficulty since he himself had grown too fond of the trinket. To cut a long story short, it was decided that the Ring should be destroyed'

'Around the same time, chance made that Gollum was let loose from Mordor, no doubt to track the whereabouts of the Ring, and Aragorn caught him in the Dead Marshes. He sent word that we should meet in Lorien and decide on our course of action. And at the same time, you came to us. A stroke of good fortune? I think not-'

'There is an ancient belief that a Messenger would open the gateway to another world' Gandalf went on 'It is a prophecy few even of the Istari knew about yet it has been made more than two thousand years ago, although in the beginning it was believed to be more of a legend. It spoke about a doorway in the Misty Mountains, an entryway to another world that lay under the waters of a fountain with healing powers.'

'So where does Gollum fit in there?' I asked.

'Gollum kept the ring for five hundred years in that cave. All the time we thought that it was the Ring who had prolonged his lifespan so unnaturally yet it wasn't only the Enemy's tool that was at work. The underground lake in Gollum's cave has incredible healing and life-prolonging powers. He promised to tell us how to get there quickly in return for leniency and a comfortable prison.'

'And you believed Gollum?' I struggled to grasp the magnitude of the desperate gamble these wise people had taken.

'We had no choice but to believe him.' Aragorn explained 'We were going to deliver him to Thranduil's care then journey across Mirkwood to the Misty Mountains where the cave is. If Gollum's words proved to be true, his wish would be granted upon our return.'

'But surely you are making a huge detour, crossing the whole of Mirkwood.' I protested. Legolas had shown me maps of his home and I knew how much shorter our journey might have been.

'That is true, we were going the impossibly long way around' Gandalf replied stoically, 'and that was mostly because we could not trust Gollum. While he was imprisoned, we would be safer on the road with him away from the Ring's lure and knowing that if anything should happen to us, he would be facing death.'

'And once you get to the cave, assuming you do find it…what then?' I asked knowing full well what would follow.

'We were going to try and send the Ring into your world...' Gandalf replied.

 '..and you needed someone from the other world to take the Ring across.' I completed the thought.

'That is the gist of it, yes.' Gandalf concluded.

He held my gaze for a moment and a sad smile creased his features. Him and I understood each other very well it seemed.

'No one, and I mean absolutely no creature or spirit in Middle-Earth can cross the gateway into your world and live to tell the tale.'

'But I crossed into yours.' I objected 'What makes you think that it cannot work both ways?'  

'The gateway will only open to someone like you, a messenger from another world, whether sent here with purpose…or lost, much like yourself. And after you cross, the gateway will never open again. It is said that once the messenger passes through it, the waterfall will turn to stone not to be opened again until the ages of Middle-Earth are spent'

Please, I thought, I am no messenger… But to change their minds about what they believed my purpose was seemed to be an impossible task so I resolved to ask about the one thing that still bothered me

'What if I take the Ring across? How can we be sure that it will not endanger my world?'

'In your world the Ring will have no meaning. It embodies Sauron's evil alone. And even if it is undeniably powerful here, its evil will cannot transcend Middle-Earth. Without its Master's spirit it will be no more than a trinket, a memory to you, if indeed you remember anything.' Gandalf's meaning was not lost to me or to Aragorn. What he had meant to say was 'if you ever wake up again'

'If you think about it carefully, you will know in your heart that I speak the truth. We cannot hope to bring peace into our world by passing evil on to another…The Ring will present no danger to your world' 

'I don't know how you can place reliance on a total stranger with something so obviously important.' The words 'waiver of responsibility' flashed through my mind and I wondered if that was a remembrance of my past existence. It had to be. 'What makes you think the gateway will open up to me in the first place? How can you be sure that I will not betray your trust, or try to bail out at the last moment or be too scared to go through with it? I myself am not sure of that.'

'The Lady Galadriel has the gift of seeing inside people.' Aragorn replied 'She told us all we needed to know about you.'

I shook my head in disbelief. Believing Gollum was one thing, but this was even crazier…

Shock settled in while the stillness of the cave was disturbed only by the soft sputter of the flames. Every second seemed to last an eternity as my mind tumbled over itself with possibilities.

'What about the healing powers of the water?' I returned to my own selfish motives. 'Can that help me in any way? I mean, would that be enough to wake me up from the coma in my own world?'

'That we do not know' Aragorn said ruefully. 

Yeah, I thought bitterly, no guarantees, as usual….

I was asked to decide on a course of action that would enable me to get back home, yet Tamara had told me in no uncertain terms that to return there could mean absolute darkness. 

'Mel' Gandalf touched my hand lightly and it felt so warm compared to the chills that passed through my own body. 'We cannot ask you to do this. It must be your decision.'

Reverse psychology, the thought was strangely amusing.

'Indeed' Aragorn warned with a grim expression 'you must consider carefully. I would rather try to take it across myself and die in the attempt than live with the knowledge that I have sent you into oblivion. I will carry the guilt of not having tried hard enough you for the rest of my days. We know that to pass through the Gateway will not harm a Messenger in any way. But whatever happens after that is beyond our ken. There is a good chance that the water will do nothing to help you regain consciousness in your world.'

'I realize that' I whispered. 

Suspended between two worlds for all eternity, with only the Ring for company… that sounded like Gollum's ultimate fantasy. Did I actually laugh out aloud?

'I wonder, what if I had chosen to stay in Lothlorien? Who would have opened your gateway then? Or were you so sure that I would go with you?'

Gandalf smiled.

'That is what your friend Tamara told Galadriel.'

Tamara again, dearest, faceless, friend….

'She said you would not relent until you found a way back to your normal life. She also said that letting go was something that you hadn't learned yet, in spite being a grown woman. That happened to suit our purposes, callous as it may sound.'

It didn't, strangely enough. Congruence of goals was something I understood well. Except the reality was that, if I agreed to take the Ring, I would be most likely hurled into darkness and oblivion. If the Ring stayed, sooner or later the fierce spirits that pursued us would catch up and whatever fate awaited us would certainly be worse than death.

For a moment I was thankful for no longer remembering my past existence because, when I finally crossed over, I would not be resuming my life. I would be walking with eyes wide open into shadow and nothingness, perhaps never to regain consciousness again. How different was that to dying? 

On the other hand, my other choice was to take this whole world down into ruin with me. It did not take much common sense to understand that such a thing could not be allowed to happen, if there was the slightest chance that it might be avoided. No matter if it was a computer generated anomaly or a parallel universe.

And maybe there was some hope in those miraculous waters after all. 

'What if I say no?' I taunted, more out of curiosity since my decision had already been made, even long before I had consciously acknowledged it.

Gandalf spoke, no anticipation or reproof in his voice. 'Then we shall have to find such ways as we can to try and destroy the Ring or at least delay its return to its master's hand.'

I knew what that meant. Before long the enemy would strike and take possession of the one item their master coveted. It would be a matter of time before darkness engulfed everything….

'I hope you know what you are doing' I told Gandalf and Aragorn 'because I certainly don't.' 

A/N: 

* I couldn't resist using the line Aragorn used with Arwen in "Fellowship of the Ring". Of course, the circumstance was different, but it just happens that I adored it and the feelings it evokes: despair, doubt, the feeling that everything is gambled away on one flimsy possibility…But enough of this. I hope to get more reviews this time so I feel motivated enough to continue… smiles. Anyway, the sentence belongs to the scriptwriters of FOTR script, and not to me, of course.

**I know I mixed up the chronology a little, Gollum was caught in the Dead Marshes long after Bilbo left the Shire for Rivendell, but this is fiction, after all so please don't be too, too upset.


	9. Dreams and Desires

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters or locations sigh. Mel is mine though.

A/N: There, I'm updating again in one week! I just hope to get more reviews …otherwise my hands will suddenly develop keyboard stiffness lol. Just kidding. If anyone lurks, drop me a line and tell me what you think!!! I welcome suggestions and constructive criticism!

Danceingfae: This chapter should answer (some) of your question about the Nazgul. And btw, this ain't over by a long shot!

Dy: Hope this is soon enough smiles

**~ **Chapter 9. Dreams and Desires ~ 

We made our way through the dark forest at a rapid pace, stopping only when it was absolutely necessary. The air was humid and unpleasantly cold for the time of the year. I recalled the serenity and clean air of Lothlorien and ached for it with every fibre of my being. 

The sky was barely visible through the domed crown of the giant trees and the stillness was ominous. One could hear nothing except the muffled sound of the horses' hooves against the bare ground. No birds, no beasts, just a sinister silence. Nothing grew on the soil which was scattered with dead roots that looked like deformed, clawed, rotted limbs.

I could tell that my companions shared my bleak mood since they walked with bowed heads, the burden of responsibility heavy on their shoulders. 

Our rendezvous with Legolas and his company of soldiers was still four days away. If nothing else, we would be more protected and our chance of reaching our target before being waylaid by the Enemy would increase, albeit marginally.

We had agreed that Gollum would have to accompany us for urgency's sake. Gandalf knew the approximate location of the cave, but the time constraints had forced us into accepting Gollum as a companion to the end. None trusted Gollum to take us the longest possible way around, making it possible for our pursuers to catch up. Yet he understood that if they did catch up, his chance of survival was slim and his opportunity of being anywhere closer to the Ring than he already was would be gone forever.

Both Aragorn and Gandalf listened intently to the faintest of sounds, glancing around worriedly more often than not. Now and again, my eyes met Aragorn's as he repeatedly glanced in my direction. Eventually he felt he had to explain.

'How are you faring, Mel? Forgive me, but I could not help noticing that you seem troubled.'

'I'm just tired, I guess.' I replied, feeling thankful when he did not press me any further. It occurred to me that Aragorn felt awkward admitting that he was in fact looking out for me. At the same time, it was clear that he did not intend to stifle me with unwanted attention nor make me feel watched and uncomfortable. He said little but he seemed to understand more of what I did not say and acted accordingly. 

This man, dressed austerely in murky travel-worn clothing, had an air about him that demanded respect, yet he never spoke or acted in a haughty manner. The way he carried himself, the air of calm poise that he exuded had made me understand why anyone would agree to follow this seemingly brooding Ranger to the ends of the world. Power and his people's devotion would come to him naturally, without him ever having to seek it. 

'They're close, yesss, precious, they are…and getting ever closer' Gollum's jeering words jolted me out of my reverie.

'Shut your mouth, Smeagol' Gandalf snapped at him 'You'll be the first to be slain if they catch up. What good do you think you will be once they get the Ring?'

Gollum spat at the wizard and muttered something under his breath.

'What _did_ you say?' Aragorn had been the only one who had discerned what Gollum had mumbled and I detected raw anger simmering in his eyes. 

He took a step towards Gollum, his body tense and ready to inflict punishment but the next moment he composed himself and forced to relax.

'One more word like that and I will tie you to this tree and leave you' he warned 'and you shall be the first to learn just how close they are…'

Gollum stared expressionlessly, his eyes narrowed, then, as Aragorn started to turn, he leapt at the Ranger's throat with lightning speed and a vigor that left us petrified. Before any of us could react, Gollum had sunk his teeth into his quarry. I closed my eyes instinctively fully expecting to be splattered with blood gushing from the Ranger's punctured jugular. But Aragorn darted instinctively and managed to deflect the creature preventing him from causing fatal damage. Instead of grinding his teeth into Aragorn's throat, Gollum had bitten deep into the Ranger's lower arm. We were horrified to hear the unmistakable crunch as fangs met bone and Aragorn  let out an agonized cry.

Gandalf leapt off his horse and was by Aragorn's side in an instant. I was still bolted to the spot, too shocked to react. Gollum was lying flat on his face and temporarily presented no threat. With a quick movement, Aragorn had twisted around and backhanded him, justly sending him into oblivion for at least a few hours. 

I glanced disgustedly at the injury Gollum's teeth had inflicted as Aragorn pulled up his sleeve with a wince.

'Looks worse than it is' Aragorn remarked trying to sound unruffled but I saw his jaws grit as he fought to ignore the pain.

'This could be dangerous' Gandalf warned as he examined the arm.

'I know' Aragorn said calmly.

The skin was tattered and no doubt pieces of it were still lodged between Gollum's teeth. It was not a clean bite. The creature's fangs had ground all to easily through skin and muscle tissue but meeting the resistance of the bone, had skated alongside it shredding the flesh into bloody strips that hung sickeningly. I never imagined Gollum could wreak such devastation with his teeth alone.

'It looks horrible' I managed to babble not taking my eyes off Aragorn's arm. 'Is he going to be all right?' I asked stupidly.

'Aragorn has healed a great many wounds.' Gandalf said  'He has the skill to care for this one too.'

The sight of Aragorn's blood made me queasy and they must have noticed because Gandalf immediately ordered me to keep an eye on Gollum.

The wizard helped Aragorn clean the wound and spread some ointment on it while I stood next to Gollum, my yes never leaving the creature sprawled on the ground, ready to cuff him in case he woke up and tried another one of his stunts again. I hoped it would not come to that, but after seeing the damage he had inflicted I realized that I would not hesitate to protect myself, more out of an instinct of self-defense. 

What the Ring must have done to Smeagol to turn him into this utterly heinous being….

The Ring…I tried not to think about it… I had been around it for a few days and I had seen visions and nightmares that had chilled my blood…

We were all being affected…Or so Gandalf had told me. Since that time I had found myself constantly monitoring my every reaction, doubting every last thought or word I said. I watched my companions carefully for the same signs, trying to guess if their words or actions were in any way influenced by the evil presence of the Ring. Aragorn was not a violent man, yet somehow his reaction to Gollum's abusive words had provoked the creature into attacking him. Was Aragorn's unexplained aggressiveness the trigger that had Gollum off? None of us could answer these questions. And then again, wasn't doubting one another a direct consequence of having the Ring in our midst?

'We have to move on' Gandalf told me. 'This place is not safe.'

I helped the wizard haul the unconscious Gollum onto his horse and we started off again.

That night Gandalf prepared a concoction out of leaves he carried in a pouch hidden in his gray robes. 

'You better have some too, Mel' he offered a cup full of the pungent smelling liquid. 'You need your strength.'

Whatever it was, it tasted vile and it almost amused me to watch Aragorn's grimace as he dutifully drank it as well

'You need to rest tonight' Gandalf told Aragorn.

'No, I am better.' Aragorn protested 'Besides, you and Mel cannot watch the whole night. There's Gollum as well. He's not learned his lesson, I fear'

'We will make do for one night. This place seems secluded enough' Gandalf said glancing around the cave.

'Don't worry' I added 'we will deal with Gollum, if need be.' 

'You saw just how treacherous he can be.' Aragorn warned but did not oppose me. 

'I'll be careful, but let's hope it will not come to that'

I saw Gandalf half-smile in the corner of my eye. Aragorn tried to smile as well but it visibly took much effort on his part. He settled down and wrapped himself in his cloak without protesting further. He was a sturdy man yet his injury seemed to have been more serious than I initially thought.

My fears were confirmed later that night. Gandalf had watched for three hours and I was trying to figure out how to keep track of the hours when I heard Aragorn moaning in his sleep. I walked over to where he slept, stepping over Gollum's heavily tied and gagged body in the process. He wasn't sleeping and he followed me inquisitively with his eyes. I purposefully ignored him.

Aragorn was tossing his head and his body shivered. I took the two blankets wrapped around my shoulders and covered him. At the same time, I wanted to check if he had a fever. As I stooped over to touch his forehead, he grabbed my wrist and started twisting it while a dagger was stuck at my throat. Sick or not, he was very much in command of his senses.

I must have cried out in pain, because he released me instantly and sat up shaking a mist from his grey eyes.

'I am so sorry, Mel.' He apologized profusely 'I thought..'

'It's all right' I said trying to sound casual. 'I'm glad you did that, it means you're not all that sick'

The swift motion must have caused him great pain because he flinched visibly.

'I wanted to see if you had a fever.' I explained. 'You were thrashing about in your sleep.' I dared not touch him again for fear of appearing too familiar.

'Thank you for your concern, Mel.' Aragorn said gravely. 'Have I hurt your hand?'

'Not at all. Would you like more tea?' I offered instead.

'I think not.' Aragorn shook his head and smiled. We both hated Gandalf's concoction and healer or not, Aragorn was only human after all.

'Have some water then.' I handed him his water pouch and watched as he struggled a bit but finally managed to drink. 

'Thank you, Mel.' He said softly. He probably appreciated that I didn't jump to help him drink instead had let him do it on his own. I know I would have.

'Well, back to sleep you go' I urged.

'I am better now, Mel.' Aragorn protested 'As for these, I no longer need them' He motioned towards the blankets pooled around his body 'Besides, I will not have you get sick as well.' He lifted the blankets with his good hand and offered them to me. I took them without further protest.

'I shall watch a while. You go to sleep' he said.

'Not tonight, Aragorn' I declined gently but firmly ' I don't know much about healing but I know bites like that can be very dangerous. Besides, you don't want me to get into trouble with Gandalf.'

Aragorn hesitated and it was plain that he was uncomfortable with the idea of resuming his sleep. He was a man of few words but his eyes conveyed exactly what he felt.

'Please rest. Just for tonight. Doctor's orders'

Was that a touch of admiration and gratitude that I detected in the Ranger's gaze? Yet he said nothing as he lay down again and drew his cloak about him.

'I am here should you need me' he whispered as he closed his eyes and drifted off again immediately.

'I know' I replied though I was sure that he could not hear. 

After a while, I stood up and crept closer to him, listening to his even breathing. I had to be sure he was sound asleep. Slowly and very carefully, I laid the two blankets on top of his sleeping form. He needed their warmth far more than I did.

~~

_Much later, I finally drifted into slumber, my bones aching and my mind overwrought from the day's events. I shivered a little, covered as I was only with my cloak and struggling to find a comfortable enough position. _

_Then, without warning, warmth crept slowly over me and the sensation was so comforting that I instantly felt safe and protected. Strong, supple arms wrapped around me from behind and I felt a body pressing close to mine. A warm hand caressing my cheek, a thumb tracing my lips like…it couldn't be…Legolas…had he returned already? I lay curled up on my side and I flipped onto my back for a better look but before I saw anything, his face lowered, lips searching mine, gently at first, probing, finding, opening then bruising, demanding more and I submitted timidly at first, while he carried on deliberately with his tantalizing exploration and his silky fair hair brushed against the sides of my neck…What are you doing?…Nothing, I answered in my own mind…nothing that I would ever live long enough to regret. I had never tasted anything so sweet and luscious as Legolas' mouth and as he shifted his weight, he lifted his face from mine and pierced me with his gaze. Never before had any man looked at me so intently and so completely rapt. I lay there completely subjugated by the sight._

_'I never want to let you go, mellon nin…' he breathed as he covered my mouth with his again and I heard a muffled moan that must have come from me and I held onto him for dear life as we shared urgent kisses. All this, and he still called me his friend?_

_My mind was frozen to anything else but the feeling of absolute contentment that flowed inside and around me. I had never felt so desirable in my whole life, nestled in Legolas' arms while he covered my face and neck with kisses and I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his body tensed and meaning to taste everything, or the way he pressed his hips against mine claiming every last drop of resistance I might have possessed._

_Suddenly, he lifted his body off mine and grasped my hand firmly. _

_'Come with me' he whispered. _

It was beyond my will to deny him, or indeed myself, a few brief moments of respite when we both knew that tonight was possible only because of the doom that might be awaiting us tomorrow.

_My eyes never left his as I got to my feet. He was walking away from the fire and I followed._

_Absently, I noticed that he wore a dark hooded cloak that swelled around him in his flowing gait. The hood was still up as we reached a group of trees and he suddenly spun around.  _

_Then I saw it. My heart stopped and the scream I was about to articulate froze on my lips… The cloak was empty! Nothingness gaped back at me for there was no body to fill it. In the dim light of the distant fire, it seemed to be dancing to an odious rhythm in the wind as it swiftly floated up close and reached an invisible hand for me and I distinctly heard a hissing command that froze my blood._

_'Give It to me!'_

_Instinct took over. I turned. I ran. But not fast enough. I stumbled on a root – or was it that cursed hand that grabbed my leg? - and fell forward heavily as pain shot through my head from the violent impact with the ground. I raised my head and saw blood dripping on my hand. I finally found my voice and screamed as shadows gathered about me and strong hands seized my shoulders jolting me senseless._

'Mel, Mel, wake up. _Wake up!'_

My eyes burned when I tried to open them. I was lying by the fire and Gandalf was shaking me gently. The wizard's face slowly swam into focus and his worried expression relented into relief.

'You had a dream. But it's over now.' He reassured.

I sat up wearily and shuddered. My hair and body were drenched in sweat and my breath came in short gasps. I could not speak, my mouth and throat parched with inexplicable thirst.

Gandalf stared at me and I saw fresh concern mirrored in his eyes.

'Your nose is bleeding' he explained.

I noticed droplets of blood on my hand and tentatively touched my nose. 

'I fell…in the dream…the evil spirit…he was chasing me…' was all I could mutter as I clumsily wiped away the blood.

'What evil spirit?' Gandalf asked, his eyes suspicious and more than a little alarmed.

The memory was so vivid I feared to even blink my eyes lest it returned. It took a while until I collected my wits and was coherent enough to impart most of my dream, carefully avoiding the steamier part with Legolas.

Gandalf 's face changed color as I talked, gradually becoming an ashen gray. I stopped midway through a sentence when I saw his aged hand grip his staff until the knuckles went white even in the half-light.

'Nazgul…' he whispered. 'That is what you dreamed of.'

'But I don't even know how they look like' I protested feebly wishing Gandalf was wrong. Presently my nose started bleeding again, heavier this time and Gandalf made me lie down to try and stop it from spilling all over my clothes. He sat close to me and smoothed my hair with his long, delicate fingers that reminded me of my father.

'They are drawing closer' Gandalf mused.

~~

The strident ring of the phone startled Tamara out of sleep.

'What?' she croaked into the receiver.

Suddenly she was fully awake and as she listened intently to the other person, her eyes grew big and filled with tears. She asked a few disjointed questions and when she shakily cradled the telephone she fell back against the headboard, her fingers stuck in her hair in a desperate gesture.

After a long time, she fumbled with the phone again and dialed Jerry's number.

 'It's Mel.' Tamara cried before the programmer even had time to utter a word. 'She started with a nosebleed this afternoon then just after midnight she stopped breathing altogether… They put her on life-support straight away… She's stable now but they don't know for how long….Jerry, I think we're losing her...'

'Oh, no!' Jerry muttered. 'Do they know why this is happening?'

'No' Tamara replied, her face still buried in her hands and the phone nestling in the nook of her shoulder. 'They have no idea…'

~~

A/N: Three guesses why Mel stopped breathing in the real world? ( and it's not because of the dream) Let me know what you think!!

(Again I try not to make this sound Mary-Sueish so please remember that whatever passed between her and Legolas / wraith happened in Mel's dream.)


	10. Insomnia

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters or locations sigh. Mel is mine though.

A/N : Thanks again to danceingfae, Maverick Girl, Dy – my faithful readers hugs all. And to whoever is lurking in the background, if you are still following the story, come out, come out wherever you are….!

Samus: You are right, of course I changed the whole chronology and a lot more than that. If you read chapter 8, you will see that Gandalf tells Mel that Bilbo gave him the Ring. (I agree, I should have said 'more' than 60 years ago, not  'almost' 60 years ago). Also whatever she remembers from Gandalf's tale is what happened up to that point. Let's not forget that the Ring had a 2000-odd year history before the point at which this story starts. Thanks a lot for your input and for pointing that out!

~ Chapter 10 – Insomnia ~

Dawn came, inevitably, or at least we felt the chill of it since light was not privileged enough to penetrate to the secluded spot where we had sheltered. Gandalf concealed the traces of our camp as best as he could before we departed in the morning.

The stillness was unchanged yet I noticed patched of faded grass and sparse bushes as we neared the outer fringes of Mirkwood. While such frail plant life broke the monotony of the dank, shady landscape I had become so accustomed to, it occurred to me that I was no longer concerned with admiring the surroundings, like in the beginning. I did not even mourn the loss of clean invigorating air that had lifted my spirits and was now replaced by clinging unpleasant humidity. I found myself drinking increasingly large amounts of water to quench the thirst that seemed to devour my body with ruthless intensity.

My whole world had been reduced to seeking small creature comforts where almost none existed but mostly trying to run away from the shadows that had begun dancing before my eyes with terrifying regularity. I no longer needed to close my eyes to see them.

I wondered if any such visions befell Gandalf, Aragorn or at least Gollum who continually fell into step with me, searching for my eyes, pleading with his own, but saying nothing.

One more day, I kept telling myself, one more day and we would meet up with Legolas and his company of soldiers. Gandalf estimated another week from there to Gollum's cave.

One day..if we were lucky. Aragorn was riding, in no condition to walk, and I was amazed at his ability to maintain his balance, however fragile, in the saddle and not collapse in a heap. His eyes often rolled back in his head as he almost drifted away from consciousness but Gandalf, who walked beside the horse, never failed to offer him a steadying hand.

'I am holding you back' Aragorn's voice broke the monotony. We all stared at the Ranger, who had not spoken the whole day and whom I had thought to be beyond lucidity. Bitterness and anger were evident in his tone and one could only guess at the helplessness and futility he felt. He was supposed to be the leader and our protector, more so now that Legolas was gone, instead he wandered in and out of consciousness and made the enemy' task of catching up with us all the easier. 

A brief stop we made to refill our water bottles brought us face to face with the reality of Aragorn's condition. With great effort, the Ranger dismounted and once again he inspected his wound. This time I found the guts to look. The whole of the lower arm had taken a disgusting purplish hue, the bite mark mottled with tiny white flecks while the hand was swollen and the nails looked a sickeningly yellow.

'It's festering' Gandalf remarked.

'You're right' Aragorn replied in a perfectly clinical tone, as if it was not his own body he was talking about. 

'We will need to light a fire' Gandalf said and stood up.

'No, not now' Aragorn disagreed. 'We need to find a better shelter.'

'Aragorn' Gandalf warned 'You could lose the use of your arm, if not the arm itself should you choose to delay too much.'

'I know that' Aragorn said. 'But I know what I am saying. We cannot linger here.' He bore too resolute a look and even Gandalf refrained from arguing further.

So we moved on once more and found another out-of-the-way place to camp that night. Legolas had taught me how to build a fire and I tried to help Gandalf as much as I could. It felt somewhat gratifying to know that I was of some use instead of a burden. When the fire was lit, I busied myself with organizing a comfortable enough sleeping place for Aragorn.

'I do not expect to be waited on' Aragorn said as soon as he noticed what I was doing.

'In that case, you better enjoy it while it lasts, because I'm not used to waiting on anyone either' I replied jokingly. 'And besides, you prepared my bed for me every night since we started out. So let's say I'm just returning the favor.'

'I am not used to this…attention.' Aragorn returned, his smile sincere but every word obviously costing him a lot of anguish. It was evident that he was not used to anyone tending him, even Gandalf and certainly not me. He probably felt as much frustration as pain.

'You will have to help me cleanse this thoroughly.' Aragorn said eyeing Gandalf levelly. 'I cannot do it very well with only one hand'

The next moment I heard the unmistakable sound of iron being unsheathed and I turned to see Aragorn placing the tip of his dagger into the fire, the same dagger that he had held at my throat the night before, thinking I was the enemy. My stomach turned as I realized what was about to happen and I must have turned a sickening shade because Aragorn beckoned me to sit close to him.

'I wish to ask you something' his voice was barely a hush. 

He opened his healthy hand to reveal several brownish-green leaves. They looked fragile yet strangely at home in the large, elegant palm. Not the hand of a warrior, I mused. Quite the opposite. These hands were made to build, strengthen, not by force but through mending, healing and protecting. The very essence of Aragorn was laid bare by this hand.

'_Athelas_' Aragorn explained. 'Please boil some water and scatter the leaves in it. They will work wonders for all sorts of wounds and other ailments.'

I scooped the tiny leaves out of Aragorn's palm almost reverently and it occurred to me that he had given me this task so that I was not forced to witness what followed. Looking after me again, I noted.

'Hold still' Gandalf commanded as he slowly removed the dagger from the flames, using a cloth to grasp the hot handle. I could not help stealing a glance at the Ranger whose eyes burned but whose countenance showed none of the anticipation of horrible pain one would normally associate with such an extreme, barbaric surgical procedure. 

If Aragorn gasped or indeed made any sound at all as the sweltering orange-glowing iron made contact with his injured flesh, I heard none of it. I was too busy trying to shut the agonizing sound of hissing, burning flesh out of my mind and to ignore the scorching stench that dissipated into the air in an instant. I concentrated fiercely on the bowl of boiling water and dispersed the _athelas_ leaves in it. Within seconds the fresh, healing fragrance exploded around our little camp and for the first time in days, I felt uplifted and almost optimistic. I dipped a few cloths in the healing mixture and padded across where Gandalf and Aragorn sat. None of the undoubtedly excruciating pain that he had suffered was reflected on Aragorn's face, the only telltale sign was his deathly pallor and the beads of sweat that ran down his face and matted his hair.

'Thank you, Mel.' He said, his intent eyes fixed on me. Polite and well mannered, after having your flesh branded with a hot iron…it was too much for me.

'Don't thank me, Aragorn' I said half-jokingly, not finding anything else to say. 'I'm quite amazed that I haven't passed out yet and forced Gandalf to leave you and attend to me.'

My comment elicited a guffaw from the wizard and a wide grin from Aragorn. Yet the strain of the wound was still all too evident on his face even as he dabbed at his arm with the _athelas_ infused cloth. 

In spite of the Ranger's protests, Gandalf ordered Aragorn to rest and he grudgingly agreed. I lay down as well, expecting to sleep soundly. All the more since the _athelas_ infusion lulled my body into a state so comfortable I had not remembered experiencing since my first day in Lothlorien. The previous night, sleep had evaded me after the Nazgul nightmare and I was convinced that the shadows I kept seeing in the periphery of my vision throughout the day were owed to insufficient sleep. But after falling asleep easily enough, I awakened several times in a short space of time because of the racking thirst that seemed to endure no matter how much water I drank. My throat burned as if I was on the brink of dehydration even as I insatiably gulped down the water. Gandalf sat watching by the fire, giving me a somewhat intrigued look that made me wonder if he found the sight of my craving for water alarming.

'Get some sleep and let me watch.' I urged him. 'I'm too high strung from the events of the day. I cannot seem to relax enough.'

'You are not getting enough rest, Mel' Gandalf scolded gently. 'You cannot expect to go on with so little sleep.'

'Well, it doesn't matter anymore, does it?' I retorted and instantly regretted my tartness. 'I'm sorry, Gandalf. That was totally uncalled for. What I meant to say is that from the little that I do remember about my life, I never needed much sleep.'

'No need to apologize.' The kindness was not gone from Gandalf's tone. 'None of us is safe.'

'What do you mean?'

'We are all affected by the Ring, one way or another.'

'Frankly, I find that hard to believe. I mean, that the Ring would have any influence on you or Aragorn.'

Gandalf glanced around warily, eyes alert and piercing, until they rested on Gollum who had fallen into one of his rare spells of slumber. It would not last long but his uncontrollable twitching made it obvious that the creature was not feigning. 

'Gollum sleeps' Gandalf whispered quite contentedly.

With infinite care, the wizard pulled something over the top of his head, something that hung around his neck, concealed under his cloak. It was a longish chain made of small silvery ringlets. I understood immediately why Gollum could not be privy to this vital exchange.

'Is this…?' I asked stupidly, my eyes fastened on the little band of gold that dangled expectantly at the end of the chain, glowing shyly in the soft firelight.

In spite of everything I had seen in the past few weeks, my common sense clashed violently with the concept this trinket embodied.

'So much fuss...over _this_?' I managed to articulate.

Since the time I had learned that the Ring was in the possession of one of my companions, I had made a conscious effort to refrain from asking specific questions about it. I had no idea whether it was Gandalf or Aragorn who carried it and I had ridiculously decided that knowing as little as possible about the Ring would somehow render me impervious to its influence and allure. 

'I fear that I will have to entrust this to your care, if only for a while.' Gandalf proffered the chain taking great pains not to touch the Ring but I made no move to take it.

'I want nothing to do with it.'

'It will be safer with you than with any of us.' Gandalf insisted.

'No, I don't believe it. I will take it across with me when we get to the cave, but I would prefer to stay away from it until then. I….I have seen it in my mind, before I even knew it was here.'  I confessed, hoping that Gandalf would change his mind.

'I know you are scared that you are not strong enough. None of us is. Aragorn carried it until Gollum bit him, because I had asked him to. And I had asked him because I could no longer control the visions it spawned.'

'What? But how can it…' I was too stunned to continue. Gandalf seemed beyond the reach of even something as powerful as the Ring.

'The flaming Eye of Sauron dwelt in my mind every waking moment. Even my wizard's lore could not prevail against it and was not enough to drive it away. There were incessant voices that whirred in my head, telling me of the great good I could bring about if only I were to be its master. And that was a tempting thought, even for me.'

My heart went out to the elderly wizard and I felt an actual pang of pain as he spoke. Gandalf had told me about the Eye of Sauron. Thankfully I had not been graced with visions of it. One had to count their blessings, I supposed.

'What about Aragorn?' I asked. 'How was he affected?'

'Aragorn is no mere Ranger, as you might already know. He has inside him blood of kings. It was his forebear Isildur who cut the Ring off Sauron's hand two ages ago. But it was also Isildur who, when presented with the opportunity, refused to cast it into the fire and took it as his own. It is this weakness that Aragorn believes has sullied the blood of his kin and now courses through his veins. He knows only too well that before long, the Ring will worm its way into anyone's mind and heart. And he fears he in turn, will be tempted to use its power to challenge the Dark Lord and gain that to which he is rightfully entitled: his kingship.'

'But he agreed to carry it nevertheless.' I was beginning to comprehend their predicament and to fear that I would not succeed into dissuading Gandalf from his intention.

'Indeed,' Gandalf continued 'we agreed to share the burden as best as we could, for as long as we could, until we reached the end of our journey.'

'And Legolas? Why was he not involved at all in this?'

'Elves are slowly but surely leaving Middle-Earth. The Firstborn are no longer going to great lengths to preserve this world as their own. They would protect it, yes, even die doing so, yet it is men and other races that will inherit Middle-Earth. An elf would not want to bear the One Ring.'

While the explanation seemed perfectly plausible to Gandalf, it did not seem so to me but that irrelevant. It was not the Elves' fight. It was not mine either, yet I was caught in the middle of it and I had pledged to help in the only way I could.

'I know it is much to ask and that you might not see the reasoning as I do' Gandalf laid my thoughts bare once again. He took my hand gently and placed the chain and the Ring in my hand. 'That is why you must have it.'

I studied the Ring briefly. It had wreaked havoc for thousands of years in this world. Yet it now lay harmless in my hand, heavier and colder than I thought, and it seemed nothing more than a fancy trinket with an exaggerated tale woven around it. I closed my fist protectively around it. I had known about its existence for only a few days yet I had seen visions that chilled my blood.

The greater part of my mind fought desperately to grasp this alternate reality. Something had happened that had changed my destiny. And I realized there and then, that my ultimate hope was that this world was a lie… because if it was the truth, it would be too much to accept.

I sat up a long time, smoking Gandalf's pipe and passing my time with my favorite pursuit: striving to remember the faintest details of my past life. And while my lack of reminiscence brought me no pleasure, I found some measure of solace in the wizards' pipe weed. Eventually Gandalf had given up trying to persuade me to sleep and had lain down to rest, but only after extracting a promise that I would wake him the moment I felt drowsy. I had always wondered if the wizard actually slept or just kept vigil with his eyes closed.

Aragorn had slept a dead slumber for a few hours but as I kept watch he started thrashing about again. A groan escaped his lips and I immediately drew closer, careful not to touch him this time and find his dagger at my throat again. But it soon became evident that he was in no condition to attack anyone. Aragorn was shivering wildly, his eyes were wide open yet unseeing and I was alarmed by his glazed over expression. He muttered softly in a language I did not understand and which I assumed was elvish. All caution thrown aside, I touched his forehead and found him burning with fever. Summon Gandalf, my mind cautioned, you are not qualified for this. The contact with my cold hand seemed to settle him a bit so an idea came to me. The _athelas_ infusion had cooled down and I dipped a cloth in it and bathed his forehead, wiping away the sweat the way I remembered my mother used to do when I was little.

I studied his elegant features in the firelight. No amount of grime or stubble could hide his aristocratic quality or belie his rightful kingly heritage.

In his thrashing, his fevered eyes traveled to my face and panic gripped me because his gaze penetrated right through me and settled on a point far beyond me.

'Arwen…' he whispered. 

He was obviously delirious and in his hallucination was seeing the face of his elven lady.

His healthy arm came up and rested on my cheek. A faint smile curled the corners of his mouth and his eyes lit strangely. I sat frozen, not daring to deny him the vision. I searched desperately for something to tell him, something to soothe and calm this man who needed no such thing from anyone. He was lying here, fighting this infection, because he had assumed a terrible responsibility and the burden of it had weighed so much on his body because it could not reach so deep into his mind. 

His hand was still on my cheek, barely touching my own sweaty, dust-covered face and the only words that came to me were the words that Legolas used to call me.

'_Mellon nin.._' I whispered to him, knowing somehow that whoever he was imagining would know that someone was there in his moment of need.

I sat next to him for a while, rinsing his face in with the _athelas_ infusion until his breathing became steady and calm and his eyes closed in what looked like a more peaceful slumber.

Gandalf took his watch soon afterwards and I did not protest this time mostly because of the sudden weariness that had overcome me.

'You did good, Mel' I heard him say as I lay down. I knew he meant the time I had spent caring for Aragorn and I wondered, with a tinge of embarrassment, if he had seen Aragorn touching my face and how that might have appeared to him.

'Arwen would be indebted to you if she knew.' the wizards added. I smiled inwardly, no longer amazed at his ability to read my mind. 

'Good night, Gandalf.'

TBC

A/N: So, interesting enough still? Ummm, yes, in case you are wondering, it will get worse. Well, it can only get worse from here…!

  
  



	11. Dark Mirrors

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters or locations sigh. Mel is mine though.

A note of thanks to my lovely reviewers:

Dy: I hope it the following chapter measures up to 'worse' lol.

Danceingfae: I'm trying to make this as angsty as I can without turning it into a Mary-Sue lol. I do tend to tame down my ideas since this is a PG13 after all.

Maverick Girl: Aragorn sick and injured is also something that I loved, his trial is not over yet, although he is past the danger caused by Gollum's bite.

~ Chapter 11 – Dark Mirrors ~

Gandalf was puttering about when I opened my eyes. Before I even had a chance to say good morning, he shoved a cup of steaming liquid under my nose. I recognized the smell instantly and probably made a face because he barked at me in the most authoritative tone.

'Don't say it, just drink.'

'It's too hot' I protested clutching the proffered cup clumsily, knowing only too well there was no way to escape the wizard's vile tasting tea.

Gandalf shot me a menacing glare and I obediently gulped the liquid.

Although I had slept soundly and felt considerably more rested, a soft whir was already beginning in my head and its persistent droning both irritated and confused me.

'Tastes terrible' I mumbled mostly to myself when I noticed that Aragorn's bedroll was empty.

'Where's Aragorn?' I was mildly alarmed but delighted that he had the energy to rise.

'Down by the stream.' The wizard answered and his eye held a contented spark. 'He is past the worst. His fever broke and the festering stopped.'

It was the best news we'd had in days. I smiled at the sight of Aragorn walking slowly but steadily up the soft slope that led from the riverbank. He still looked pale and haggard but his stride was more purposeful and when he neared I saw radiance in his eye that had been all but extinguished the night before.

'Pack your things,' Gandalf urged. 'We have to leave at once.' His eyes darkened as he studied the sky broodingly. 

'How far behind us do you think they are?' I asked. The good news of Aragorn's improvement had been too brief a respite from the reality that was once again crashing down on us. Faceless, merciless enemies were hunting us.

'I cannot say.' Gandalf said shaking his head. 'Not even Aragorn can tell.'

'It is true' Aragorn confirmed ' Signs that we saw a few days ago are not present anymore.'

'And that disturbs you?' I asked.

'Greatly' Aragorn replied. 'It is as if they slowed their pace with clear purpose…Or else changed their course.'

I made a dash for the stream to wash and change my clothes before we left. It was the first time in days that trees did not block sunlight and the water shimmered playfully with the light filtering through the sparse trees, singing a joyous song as it flowed along. I dipped my fingers in the pure, cool water and it felt like silk brushing through my fingers. I could have lingered there indefinitely, listening to this most peaceful of sounds, had we not been in such haste to leave. 

I picked up a soft rustle behind me and knew instantly who had sneaked up behind me. 

'Go away and leave me alone, Gollum!' 

Time and again during the past few days, I had noticed the creature was trying to tell me something, his huge eyes beseeching and repentant but each time I had invariably given him the silent treatment, feeling more resentful and disgusted than ever. Whatever pity I had felt towards him was rapidly dissolving into anger at what he had done to Aragorn. Immediately after the attack I had thought myself capable of hurting him so I kept my distance. Now I felt only revulsion and I agreed that he was long overdue some well-placed harsh words.

'Mistress…Mel….' He entreated tentatively, timidly even. 'Please…' he begged and I finally turned to see his defeated skeletal frame, shoulders hanging pathetically and his tied hands raw and bleeding again.

'If Aragorn had lost the use of his arm, I think I could have killed you myself!' I told him evenly. 'What possessed you to do something like that? What do you think you would have accomplished by killing Aragorn except your own death? Oh, Gollum, you bring out the worst in us, every time, without fail!'

 'Smeagol did not mean to kill the Ranger…it was an accident..'

'Accident, my foot!' I snapped. 'The only accident was your hard luck when you missed his throat by a few inches. Next thing you're going to tell me that the Ring made you do it!' 

I regretted my outburst instantly when I saw Gollum' s face twisting into wicked grin and his pupils narrowed, all remorse forgotten.

'The Precious makes you do things, yes, it can…Now that Mel has it, maybe she can tell us what the Precious tells _her to do_…'

'I'm not mad like you, Smeagol! No blasted piece of gold is going to tell me what to do.' I spat, and wondered if he could sense just how uncertain I was.

Confirmation came an instant later. Even as the words tumbled out of my mouth I became aware of a smoky shadow in the corner of my eye. It advanced with appalling speed and a cold, gray mist shrouded my vision, blocking the sight of everything around me. It felt cold. So cold. The only clarity I was rewarded with was a muted sussur that assailed my ears with mounting intensity.

'_Smeagol…Smeagol_……_Mel, Mel, mine_…' the softest, most mellifluous voice, demanding submission and absolute trust.

A voice so silky it seemed to brush against the back of my neck and along my arms, like the caress of an adept lover and my stomach muscles quivered involuntarily in anticipation of his ardent breath against my skin.

I shuddered at the reaction of my own body and willed my mind to stop wandering, but to no avail. The mist seemed to retreat enough for me to notice that the stream had turned into a black pool, still as a mirror. I risked a glance in it and gasped aloud at the frightful reflection. It was me yet somehow it was not. My eyes burned with a terrible light and dark, wild hair crowned my head. I wore flowing black robes that billowed in a wind I did not feel. Then to my right, I saw Gollum's face, peeking timidly.

'What are you doing here?' I demanded without even opening my lips. I knew without a doubt that my mind could reach his.

_'Yes, what is he doing here? He should not be here!' that terrible, beautiful voice that seemed to know my every thought._

 'What do you want, Smeagol?' I asked in my mind again.

_'Need you ask?' The voice. Scathing. Unforgiving._

'You want the Ring, don't you?' I barked yet not a sound left my lips 'Don't you?'

_'He must leave! Make him go away!!' Commanding, urgent._

'Go away!' I warned Gollum yet the creature made no move to retreat, eyeing me in awe, rooted to the spot.

_'Get rid of him! He should not be here!'_

'Leave, Smeagol. Leave now!'

_Gollum stood still, his eyes wild with fear.._

_Suddenly, as if by chance, I found myself fingering the knife at my belt, Legolas' white knife, his gift to me. I unsheathed it fully and turned towards Gollum._

'Go now, Gollum, or else..''

_'Kill him, he wants the Ring, he will take it if you give him the chance. Rid yourself of this constant threat. Soon he will attack you like the attacked Aragorn. Only much worse…!'_

Gollum cowered, whimpering a pathetic plea. I could not make out the words and I didn't even want to.

I took a step closer to him, knife readied, and saw my face, distorted by hatred, mirrored in the pools of Gollum's terrified orbs. I glanced at my arm, handling the knife so expertly, like it wasn't my arm at all, like it belonged to someone else. This Gorgon with wild hair and my features that was NOT me!!

_'Kill him, make him go away forever..!!'_

'No!' I protested aloud and in a flash of blue light found myself again by the stream, the dark mirror gone, the mist dissolved. I doubted more than a second had passed altogether.

I heard the stream, I heard Gandalf talking to Aragorn while they went about packing, and I looked to see Gollum still at my feet… I wondered if they had heard the voice as well, hoping against hope that they had, yet knowing in my heart that the vision had been meant for my eyes and ears alone.

'The Precious is calling, yesss it issss…' Gollum's voice had the same velvety quality that made me cringe. 'Yesss, precioussss, Mistress heard it too…'

'I heard nothing!' I denied vehemently and swiftly walked away almost doubling over from the pain of a sudden spell of thirst. The world started spinning with such velocity that I was compelled to sit there on the bare ground lest I collapsed. I swallowed water avidly and I was aware of very little else around me until Gandalf's voice and soft nudge jolted me back to reality.

'Mel, what is the matter?'

'Nothing, I'm fine' I answered, too quickly maybe. 'I was just thirsty.'

Gandalf gave me a skeptical look. 'I called your name three times before you answered.'

'I guess my mind was wandering. But I'm all right, really!' I tried to prove it with a smile but the concerned looks I got made it clear that neither Gandalf nor Aragorn were convinced I was telling the truth.  
  


Later on the same day – Gandalf's POV 

We are coming up a ravine, drawing near to the place where we are to meet Legolas and his company. Thankfully, Aragorn's improved condition has made it possible for us to travel at a much increased pace. Gollum's hateful bite was poisoned only by his acrimony towards us, hence it did not hold enough venom to harm him more than it already has. The infection has abated but he has yet some way to go until the full use of his arm is restored and he can wield a sword.

More and more, I am troubled by the lack of signs of the enemy. I search the skies for a sign of their carrion birds, I pay heed to every sound of eagles' cries lest I should hear their terrible shriek, but there is nothing to be seen or heard. 

We are nearing the mountains, having made our way out of Mirkwood and its gloomy obscurity. Warm sunlight shines upon our faces again and I notice just how pale both Aragorn and Mel are, one because of lingering sickness, the other because of the hurt she endures in her world. I have no doubt now that Mel's condition in her world has taken a turn for the worse. I do not know how or why, but merely by looking at her I can tell. She is strong at first glance and carries on single-mindedly yet her eyes have become sunken and are burning with something more than weariness. Telltale dark circles that will not go away even after she sleeps and with how with little effort I can see the blood pulsing in her temple veins, through parchment-thin transparent skin. And this thirst that racks her ... It is heartrending to behold her drinking greedily the water which I thank the Valar is one thing we are not lacking.  

Something happened to her this morning and she obstinately keeps it to herself. I can do no more than keep a closer eye on her.

Rain starts to fall as we near the upper edge of the gully and although we welcome its summery warmth, the horses cannot go on like this. The sloped ground is too slippery.

We find shelter amongst the fallen, dried up branches of a huge pine tree and we sit clustered together on the single patch of dry soil at the foot of it. Gollum curls at Mel's feet without a word, oblivious to the rain that falls relentlessly on his back. He would do anything to be close to the Ring.

Aragorn talks to Mel softly. He thanks her for caring for him last night although he does not know just how delirious he was.

'It was nothing out of the ordinary' she replies, albeit a little uncomfortably, 'I am sure you would have done the same for me.'

'Yes,' Aragorn agrees 'I would have and if you allow me, I will try to help you before you cross over into your world.'

She looks up at him and there is a glimmer in her eye. Is that hope? It would warm my heart to know that it is.

'I have thought a lot about the enchanted waters in that cave.' Aragorn explains. 'Who knows, perhaps that together with my healing skills will somehow work together to bring you to life in your world.'

She swallows a knot in her throat and smiles a faded, sad smile.

'Thank you, Aragorn. I have faith in you' she is undoubtedly honest but the hopeful glimmer in her eye is gone. 

He reads her face and sighs.

'You have little faith left' Aragorn says dismally.

'I don't want to talk about it,' she almost snaps, her words biting, almost harsh. I can see she is guarded and will not share whatever she is experiencing.

'Have you remembered anything about your life?' Aragorn changes the subject no doubt prompted by her flat refusal to talk about how she feels.

She shakes her head, it is too painful for her to speak about it. She averts her gaze and I see that Aragorn wants to tell her something, he opens his mouth but bites his words back. His eyes hold a muted plea as he looks to me and shakes his head.

He cannot tell her encouraging words he would say to a frightened young soldier about to face his first battle.

'There is always hope.' 

He does not wish to lie to her. 

~~

'I found her.'

Words so unexpected as they were unhoped for, after what seemed to be an impossible length of time.

Six weeks had passed and the feeling that Mel was permanently gone was beginning to sink in. Wherever Tamara turned, especially at the office, Mel's omnipresent ghost haunted her. But as time went by Tamara found herself slowly becoming wrapped up in the day-to-day running of the law office, taking on more responsibility out of necessity. The volume of work eventually forced Tamara to make a decision she had been trying to procrastinate: she had to bring in more associates, maybe even think about another partner.

Often enough, Tamara contemplated what Mel' choice would have been had she been in the position to make a conscious decision. Lying in a hospital ward, kept alive by respirators and other life support paraphernalia was definitely not Mel's idea of life. Tamara believed she knew what the decision would have been, yet legally, there was no one who could just decide to turn the machines off and allow Mel to truly rest in peace. Tamara chastised herself for thinking that way but in her heart she knew that sometimes it was more merciful to free a spirit rather than keep it trapped only because strangers had made a choice on her behalf.

But then, just as unexpected as Mel's premature departure, Jerry 's news seemed to bring a ray of hope where there was none.

'I found her.'

Tamara had glanced stupidly at the computer screen where different color dots moved randomly against the backdrop of a shapeless grid.

'See the four red dots? Mel is one of them.'

'What about the green dots?'

'Orcs, or other characters of a more…unsavory nature.'

'But there's so many of them' Tamara cried as she watched helplessly the one red dot straying further and further away from the other three, drawing near to where the green dots were swarming.

'How did you find her?' Tamara asked 'And how can we be sure that it's her, and that she is alright?'

'I don't know' Jerry answered all three questions at once. 'The game plays a pattern of its own now. I wrote a program that could differentiate between Mel's group and others according to their body heat. I fed it into the game just after Mel went in, but it was rejected. Then, just the other night, I got this on one of the monitors.' He pointed to the screen.

'But how can the game choose to reject something?'

'The game has got a will of its own, and I know just how weird this sounds. It was created for our entertainment, yet it has somehow developed cognitive traits and has turned on us, shutting down any form of communication in the process.'

Tamara listened in silence and her heart sank. Always her, the fool, to hope that following a dot on the screen was the answer. There were no answers. Mel was still trapped somewhere inside this abomination that had taken on a life of its own.

'Even if I pull the plug, the game has somehow tapped into another dimension and it exists there without the possibility of being interfered with by anyone else.'

'Another dimension? A parallel universe, you mean?'

'Exactly. The game exists in its own universe and it has captured Mel. The only way back is to play until Game Over.'

'How do you know that? How do we know anything?'

'We don't. But it makes sense, it's the only logic the program will follow.'

'But Mel doesn't know that.' Tamara protested. 

'No she doesn't' Jerry agreed. 'She doesn't know the rules, she doesn't know her condition has deteriorated here it's very possible that we will never be able to retrieve her. We can't help her either because I tried to plug-in a few support patches but they've all been rejected. We are only shown what the game wants us to see and by the same token the game interacts with Mel in its own way. No way it will help her.'

'So how is Mel going to survive this?' Tamara realized that the blink of hope was in fact nothing more than a lie, that she could do no more than helplessly follow the red dots winding their way onto the grid.

'I wish I could tell you.' Jerry said. 'There is one way, but I doubt the game will ever allow her to get there. And that is no guarantee that will bring Mel back to a normal life.'

'What way?' Tamara's eyes opened wide. She would gladly be the fool who hoped, if that indeed helped even in an infinitesimal way.

'In order to beat the game, Mel has to destroy the Ring.' 

~~

A/N: Although there is still some way to go, I have thought up a few possible endings for this. I am not fond of happy-endings of any kind in movies/books so what do you think? Any suggestions?


	12. Rising Storm

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters or locations sigh. Mel is mine though.

(Notes of thanks to the reviewers are at the end of the chapter)

~ Chapter 12 - Rising Storm ~

_Mel's POV _ I wish I could count the steps. I wish I knew how many steps to count, up to the top of this gorge at the end of which lies yet another valley: the place where we meet Legolas. Not so long ago, I wasn't sure if it was he I longed to see or if it was the safety presented by a number of soldiers against the constant threat looming over us. But now I know beyond doubt that even with an army around me, I will never be more protected than in the company of Aragorn, Legolas and Gandalf. 

And the chief reason is that more inquiring eyes could possibly see the Ring…

'We have reached the meeting place' Gandalf announced pointing to the valley sloping before us. Thick milky fog shrouded it, making it impossible to see even a few feet in front of us.

Aragorn stood still as a statue, his head slightly tilted upwards as if sniffing the air, a posture I had learned he used when assessing unseen danger. All I could smell was the moisture that clung to my nostrils, blocking out everything else.

I did not catch the look that passed between him and Gandalf but I stopped in my tracks, overcome by a sinister premonition. 

'How are we going to find them?' I found myself thinking aloud. It seemed foolish to call out, it would alert every other creature within a twenty-mile radius of our position. Unexpected rainfall had forced us to take shelter in order to protect the horses and it was late afternoon when in fact we should have been here by midday. 

'We found them already' Aragorn whispered and his croaky voice made me whip around and see his eyes staring aghast at a point somewhere into the fog, as if fully expecting to be attacked by whatever would creep out of there. 

'We have to leave, NOW' Gandalf bellowed, grabbing my arm and starting back the way we came. 

'No!! We can't leave, we can't….' I pleaded frantically as every muscle in my body fought against Gandalf's iron grip. 

And still Aragorn stood there like a figure carven in stone, drawing labored breath as the sinews of his neck became more and more visible from the incredible tension he was under. 

'No, it can't be!' I cried, overcome by denial. I managed to yank my arm free of Gandalf's grasp and ran headlong into the mist, not caring what might be awaiting there, not even caring that I was endangering the mission.

'Mel, noooo…come back…come back' I faintly heard my companions' anguished calls while I advanced deep into the mist, my only thought - find Legolas, whatever it takes... 

It was not long before I stumbled across the first body. Then another. Then another. 

The stench of the dead hit me full on as I glanced upon the fallen bodies of what appeared to be soldiers…. elven soldiers, judging by their elegant attire and flawless features, now stilled by violent death. Stumbling at every step, I went on, calling Legolas' name, crying and choking on the bile rising up in my throat and the sickening smell. With strength beyond my own, I started lifting the bodies of those fallen on their faces, just to make sure, just to know…that he wasn't one of them. The angelic elven faces… some horribly contorted in death, some frozen immobile, so much blood had streamed from their savagely hacked bodies … but it didn't matter, I was too numbed by shock to properly register it. It didn't matter that some were still warm and – indeed the thought occurred to me – maybe still alive…but beyond anyone's aid. 

I fell countless times, countless times my face came level with that of a wood elf from Legolas' realm, countless times I lost myself in the shallow depths of their unseeing orbs, countless times I thought that I caught a glimpse of Legolas' hair and as I turned the body over I laughed hysterically, disgusted at my own sick relief. It wasn't him… 

All the while hoping against hope that he might have somehow survived this carnage and fighting the voice of reason that rang inside my head and kept repeating that there was no way he could be alive. 

I was no expert but even in my daze I realized they must have been ambushed since some of them had not even had the chance to use their weapons. And the only thing that had saved us from this senseless slaughter was that unexpected rain. By right we should have been here, lying dead or dying, our blood seeping into the ground and our lives ended in failure. 

This was no image based on my brain waves, this was harsh reality invading my mind and ripping it apart. 

And then I heard it and my blood froze as I stopped dead in my tracks. From high above me reverberated a sound so foul and so crushing it sent cold shock waves into my very marrow. It was the cry of a thousand eagles amplified by the screech of myriad steel claws scraping onto hard stone. Its echo thumped in my chest with a force that knocked all breath out of me. It was the single most terrifying moment that I had ever experienced in my life… 

The pathetic instinct I still possessed screamed at me to take cover but my body refused to obey even this simplest of commands. But then, it occurred to me that whatever it was, the creature could not see me. The fog was too thick and besides, I was less visible on the ground amongst the corpses whose coloring I had undoubtedly begun to closely resemble. Yet from where I stood, I could make out the faint outline of a giant serpent-like bird, twice as big as the largest eagle in my world, with a wingspan the size of a small airplane. A cloaked shape sat astride it. I had seen it before, in my dream…. Nazgul. 

'Mel, where are you? Mel…' the desperate calls of my companions sounded so distant and for a split second I realized the enormity of what I had done. Of course, they would be looking for me…I had foolishly dragged them into this situation that would ultimately mean capture and death for all of us. We had miraculously escaped this slaughter, but my handiwork guaranteed that there would be no second chance like that for us. 

I opened my mouth to answer but thought better of it. I was overcome by the certainty that the rider of this flying beast was looking for me, or better still, for the one item that could render this whole world into permanent midnight: the One Ring. 

_'Here it is,' I wanted to scream. 'Take it! Just leave us alone, just let me find Legolas….'_

Except nothing was that simple and as I cowered on the ground, blending amidst the corpses, forcing myself to steady my heaving breathing, I swore a silent oath. The past weeks had taught me that the only memories I still had were of Middle Earth and if I were destined to have the smallest of parts in helping to defend its essence, then what had happened to me would not have been in vain. Stopping whoever had sowed this killing field with the blood of these angelic beings was worth living, and indeed, worth dying for.

I was only remotely aware of the flutter of wings above me that seemed to have moved further away, but I heard no footsteps or shuffle of any kind around me until it was much too late. I came face to face with what I immediately recognized as being an orc. It was almost as tall as me and I only stared in its revolting, hatred-filled yellow eyes for a split second before something hit me at the base of the skull and I mercifully sunk into unconsciousness but not before a last desperate thought exploded in my mind: 'The Ring! They are going to take the Ring!" ****

_Legolas' POV _

I have lost count of the hours since I was captured. I must have lost consciousness several times from my wounds because every time I opened my eyes, another of my comrades was dead. 

I counted thirty-five orcs but I know for certain there are more of them around. They chose not to blindfold me and to rather allow me to watch my remaining comrades die. 

'Why can't we have a bit of fun with the elvish prince?' they cry in mockery and my blood boils. 

'Have fun with the others,' the leader jeers. 

'But they're all dead,' they gripe. 

'That hasn't stopped you before.' The one called Bursuk replies flatly. 

Five of us were captured alive, but none live now. None but me. The orcs have some basic notion of elvish ranks since they took great pains not to kill me, but instead forced me to watch my father's soldiers be tormented and slain. The sickening looks in their pitiless eyes as they derived a pleasure akin to ecstasy from the agony inflicted on others… 

They will not keep me alive for much longer, since the last prisoner, the captain of my company, was slain only minutes ago and I thanked the stars that at least he had left this savage world and was out of his misery. The helplessness and rage of watching the horrendous torment the orcs seem so adept at inflicting, becoming more so with each new unfortunate subject. By the time they got to him, they had become so expert at prolonging the pain that I can only imagine what awaits me when they finally decide my time has come. They had him impaled on a stake, facing me, dark bloody holes where his eyes had once been, like a warning to me - to watch and prepare, lest I should forget my fate for a moment…. 

It is useless now to wish that I had died along with my other comrades… I tried hurling insults at them, hoping that, in a heated moment, one of them will deliver the killing blow I yearn for, but their reaction has been minimal. They mock me, threaten and describe various tortures that I would be subjected to, but they do not touch me. I am now certain of their purpose: they are using me as bait to ensnare Aragorn and the others. 

I wished for death until they brought Mel in. From where I am tied, I can see her clearly. She is unconscious but alive. One of them is bending over her to examine the back of her head. 

'You better hope you didn't kill her, you scumbags!' he yells at the other three who brought her into the camp. 

Now all I wish for is for her to be brought closer to me, to see her face, her eyes, to be certain that it is still she inside that delicate body. I briefly wondered what had become of the Ring when Mel stirred and they found it safer to tie her hands. How ironic that they should fear her yet she could not harm them even if she tried. The one called Bursuk checked her for hidden weapons while she lay unconscious. He found the knife I gave her and admired it for a moment before it disappeared inside his cloak. He seems to be under strict orders not to harm her either. The more bait, the better. 

She is blindfolded and completely disoriented, most likely in a lot of pain from the blow to the head. They wait for her to come to her senses before one of them pushes her to her knees and in a sickeningly lengthy motion, licks the side of her face and her ear. She screams in protest as the other grabs her by the hair and yanks her head backward to repeat the lustful gesture unhindered. My heart weeps for her while my hatred for these abominable creatures burns but I know all is in vain. I am on my knees: my arms, chest, waist and legs are bound so tightly that in spite of all the struggling I can hardly even draw breath. 

The one called Bursuk steps in and stops the horror before it starts. They haggle awhile over her, like she is a piece of meat. It is clear that even the leader cannot hold them off much longer. 

It will be hours before the Nazgul lord returns and from what I heard, Mel will be delivered to him. I am certain they have also heard about the Messenger and may want to use her for their purposes, thinking she is endowed with magical powers. Little do they know …but then again, the Messenger and the Ring would be a twofold prize. 

They lift her and drag her towards the pole where I am tied. She is rigid with fear and I wish I could tell her comforting words. But she is no fool. My fascination with this stubborn yet completely lost human is still strong and I feel a strange compulsion to protect her from the world, from herself even. 

They shove her face down and she chokes on the mud she inadvertently swallows. Her head rests on her tied hands as her shoulders tremble and no doubt there are tears hidden under the blindfold. 

'Mel…' I find strange solace in calling her name. Maybe it will help her get over the terror that grips her. If nothing else, she will know that she is not facing death alone, far from everything and everyone else who she still remembers.

'Legolas…!!You're alive…..' her voice is ragged and broken as her head whips around blindly trying to pinpoint the direction of my face. It breaks my heart to see her curled on her knees weeping for the joy of having heard my voice. Tears stream down my cheeks and I feel them strangely warm. I have lost count of the years since I last cried and I have all but forgotten how sorrow stings the soul. Yet I am no more able to help or defend Mel than I was able to aid my comrades. 

They laugh and I want to spit at them but restrain myself lest they hurt her. And hurt her they will once the Nazgul lord realizes that she has no special powers and he lays his unseen claws on the Ring. 

I pray to Elbereth that Aragorn and Gandalf are still alive, yet there is little even they can do against so many of the Enemy. My company of thirty soldiers was massacred, it would be suicidal for Aragorn to try and free us. But then again, his loyalty and sense of duty towards what he has to accomplish would undeniably drive him into the heart of danger. 

'How many are with you?' Bursuk questions, crouching next to her. 

Her breath hitches as her head snaps up at the sound of his hateful voice. 

'Don't pretend you don't understand' Bursuk snaps and his hand springs forward seizing her jaw in a unyielding grip and she gasps in pain. 'Or maybe you want to be hurt, maybe you like to be hurt…or see the elf hurt' he jeers. 

He jerks the blindfold brutally off her eyes and she blinks in horror at his proximity. She then sees the corpse of the impaled captain directly above her and her face instantly turns green. Her chest heaves as she begins to shake visibly, uncontrollably. 

Bursuk pulls out his knife, the knife that used to be hers and rams it in my face, barely an inch from my eye. 

'Well?' he says evenly. 'What will it be? A little song from you, or his eye spills onto his cheek? I can make him look exactly like the other one!' 

'No…please' she begs her tear filled eyes searching my face frantically, 'please don't hurt him…please…'. 

'Then talk, you filthy human whore' Bursuk bellows 'How many were with you?' 

'Three others' she whispers submissively. 

'Where are they now?' 

'Two are dead' she cries and muffles a sob. She looks at me, as if wanting forgiveness for gambling with my life. 'The creature Gollum escaped and I don't know where he is.' I smile inwardly, her spirit is not entirely gone. 

'You lie, harlot.' Bursuk spits yet he cannot disprove her. He grips her throat until she chokes for breath, her pleas stifled. 

Suddenly, he releases his hold and turns, barking orders at his minions to reinforce the watches and even as he does so, I can feel his edginess. The stench of fear hangs about these creatures like a shroud. 

'Send out more scouts! We have to catch all of them – _alive_!!!' 

As an afterthought, he whips around and punches Mel briskly in the face. She has not even touched the ground before he walks away swiftly. Mel reels and is violently thrown backwards by the force of the blow. As she lands on her back at an awkward angle, her hair fans out covering most of her face and neck and mercifully, the silver chain and the ring that have spilled out of her shirt. 

TBC

A/N: People, I am having fun writing this so please, if you are having fun reading/or not, I want to hear about it. Any suggestions/constructive criticism? Let me know. Also, I will be switching the points of view a lot more now, for obvious reasons. Good or bad?

To my reviewers:

Danceingfae: Thanks again for your reviews and suggestions, I was thinking about doing just what you suggested when I started writing this fic. Since then it's all ballooned out of proportion (I thought this fic was going to be a 5 chapter, and maybe I should have left it at that, lol)

Dy: Great idea with two separate endings. I would write a happy ending just for you, because you've been so sweet and loyal reviewing all the chapters. big hug

Samus: Oh, I would have never thought you wanted a happy ending, lol, just kidding. You think it's pretty depressing that I don't like happy endings. Well, imho, hardly anything ends happily in life since life means constant change (good or bad) and the only ending we know is death (which can also be good or bad). I haven't completely scared you away, have I? I really appreciate your input so please hang around.


	13. Defenseless

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters or locations sigh. Mel is mine though.

~ Chapter 14 – Defenseless ~

**__**

Mel's POV

First there was light. Seconds later memory started creeping back but a stab of pain removed all further thought from my head. I remembered the orc's fist crashing into my face and that, combined with the blow from behind I had received earlier had rendered my head a tender throbbing mess. Blood still trickled from my nose and I could feel its wetness on my lips and in my mouth yet my tongue and throat were too numb to feel its taste. 

The sky was dark and it wasn't the sky at all, it occurred to me when my eyes adjusted to seeing again and stopped watering. It was the ceiling of a cave, no doubt the temporary lair of the orcs. I had been too horrified by the interrogation to notice the surroundings before.

'Mel, are you all right?' Legolas' voice was coming from a distance. It was music to my ears and I would have laughed if I could muster up the courage.

I opened my mouth to speak but could not form words. Even trying to move my lips meant unbearable pain and the ferocity of it made me instantly forget what I was going to say. It was just the thanks to the heavens above that Legolas was still alive that lingered in my mind

'Do not try to speak' Legolas urged and I hung onto the sound of his voice for dear life. 'Take deep breaths and close your eyes. That should clear you head before long.'

From the hoarseness of his voice it was evident that all was not well with him too.

Heeding his advice, I closed my eyes and tried to breathe as deeply as I could without causing another onslaught of pain. The quasi-darkness behind my burning eyelids was welcome and indeed the pain seemed to lessen minimally as did the dizziness and nausea. Waves of raging thirst welled up inside and I frantically licked my lips of the blood that had oozed from my nose just to feel the touch of some fluid inside my parched mouth. But my body could not be fooled. I was terribly cold and my whole body shuddered. Cold… so cold. Like the Ring. My heart beat next to it and unexpected relief flooded me. They had not taken It! Had they not seen it? Did they not covet it? How could they not? Didn't they know?…

Realization struck me. They didn't! They had no inkling that the One Ring of Power dangled innocently at my neck. Seconds later, my heart sank as my racing mind came to the only plausible conclusion: whoever was after the Ring was not yet here. It was probably hovering in the sky astride its monstrous bird only to return and claim what it's master coveted. The orcs were only foot soldiers, doing the dirty work. The thought of having to face one of the foul wraiths that had haunted my dreams sent uncontrollable shivers down my spine. But one thing was beyond doubt: sooner, rather than later, they were going to take the Ring. And there was nothing I could do about it. 

Why did Gandalf have to give me the Ring? If he had kept it for just a few more days…He knew I could not protect it any more that I could protect myself. Yet it was my own stupidity and recklessness that had landed me in this situation and now there was no way to deal with it. I was entirely at the mercy of the Enemy with nothing to stop them from taking what they wanted. Dark thoughts whirled in my head while the rage I felt never subsided and tears of sorrow and shame streamed down my face. 

__

Cry all you want, feel sorry for yourself because you're so weak. It's disgusting!

I was exposed and I knew it, weakness borne of vulnerability and fear.

__

You feel sorry for yourself because you think there is nothing you can do.

Of course I couldn't do anything – I couldn't fight, I was alone, Legolas was tied beside me with no hope of being released. 

__

You lament because you are going to lose the Ring, yet you are not prepared to do anything about it.

I couldn't think of any possibilities.

__

There is always a way. Only you have to think further than your nose. Do not be afraid.

Afraid? I was terrified…Where were Aragorn and Gandalf when we needed them?

__

They've abandoned you. Who in their right mind do you think would walk in the middle of an orc company?

They will not forsake Legolas…or even me.

__

They don't know Legolas is alive. As for you, you mean nothing to them. You've seen that time and again. They are using you.

But they will want to save the Ring.

__

Forget about them, you have only yourself to rely on, as always. You have the biggest advantage of them all, yet you refuse to see it.

It was almost amusing, the thought of having an advantage…

__

You have the Ring, you fool!

I had the Ring, yes, but for how much longer?

__

For as long as you want It…..

But I don't want the Ring. It means nothing to me.

__

Of course you don't want it. But you want to save it from the clutches of the enemy, don't you?

Yes.

__

Then use IT to escape. Put it on and disappear!

Of course, that was it! If nobody could see me, then I could try to get hold of a knife or some other weapon, untie Legolas and myself and try to escape. 

'Mel!' Legolas' voice shattered my concentration and for the briefest of moments I felt a dash of irritation. After all, I was doing this for both our sakes.

There was no time to do say or do anything else. A flurry of movement behind me and I became aware that orcs were marching towards us. Their stench reached my nostrils ahead of them. They held torches and the sight of their grisly faces made me wish they had left me blindfolded. My stomach heaved at the smell of decaying breath as one of them bent over me and pulled me up by my bonds. I saw a hundred flashes of light in front of my eyes and I came close to collapsing back, no doubt due to plummeting blood pressure. Two of them supported me, preventing my fall.

When the spell had passed, I noticed that they were hauling Legolas up as well. It was the first time I laid eyes on him since he had ridden away a week before. 

Our eyes met for a split second over the heads of the much shorter orcs and he smiled thinly then winced at the sight of me. I could only imagine how I looked with fresh and encrusted blood adorning my face. He looked no better himself. Even in the half-light an ugly swelling marred his left cheek and dried blood caked in the corners of his mouth. His overcoat and wrist guards had been stripped from him and his shirt was hanging in bloody tatters. He had undoubtedly been wounded in the skirmish but he could still stand and struggle as the orcs shoved him and jeered.

Their leader took one look at me and growled. 

'Get her cleaned up, you idiots. You don't want the Nazgul to see her like that. Fat lot of good that's going to do to us when he sees all this blood!'

A pail of grubby water was shoved before my nose.

'Clean yourself up!' Bursuk barked.

I grabbed the pail with both hands and before any of them could stop me, I took a long sip of the fetid liquid. It tasted horribly, laced with mud and sand as it was and I instantly felt like vomiting.

'I said clean yourself up, whore!'' Bursuk grabbed my hair and shoved my face into the pail. 

'You can go to hell!' I spat at him, my head still excruciatingly sore. I thrust my tied hands forward and the pail of water flew in the air and landed with a wooden clink on the stone floor. 

I gave Bursuk what I thought would be my best defiant look, because I knew that whatever fate awaited me was not going to be dealt out by this orc. 

Legolas' eyes caught mine for an instant. He smiled at me and I felt strangely encouraged. In the next instant, three pairs of arms forced me to my knees and Bursuk's detestable sneer filled my vision.

'Now sit still or so help me I will bite your tongue out and watch you choke on your blood!' 

I thought he was going to hit me again and I shut my eyes instinctively. Instead, he seized my chin and rubbed my face with a cloth, trying to scour it clean and in between pangs of pain I must have smiled because I understood its fear of being found out. As soon as he finished, I felt fresh blood starting to drip out of my nose and he cursed between his teeth.

'Just take them away!' he said in a sickened tone.

The Orcs shoved us towards the entrance of the small cave. A multitude of them were outside holding torches, glaring and jeering at us.

I heard Legolas utter what sounded like a curse in Elvish and he was instantly rewarded with a whip crack over his back. He whipped around and barred his teeth in a savage snarl that I had never thought him capable of and the orcs drew a few steps back in awe. 

The incident could have escalated into something lethally unpleasant but all further commotion was drowned out by the flutter of wings that made me stiffen with fear. Irrationally, I wished for my spirit to fly out of my body and I was perfectly willing for it to wander restlessly rather than have to face this nightmare for a second longer.

The beast landed in front on me, its wings swirling a foul rush of air and choking dust all around us. I watched with petrified fascination the designs on the black reptilian skin. Once on the ground, it coiled its long neck with surprising grace and set its grey-beaked head in the gravel. I wanted to close my eyes to the sight that followed but I was enthralled. My eyes were riveted on the robed form that leapt from the saddle on the beast's back.

The wraith landed with a loud metal clatter. His feet were encased in steel-pointed boots, his unseen claw-like hands bore gauntlets of the same metal. I was not surprised to see him, he had haunted my dreams almost every night and he looked no different than my nightmarish visions.

The orcs drew back in deference forming a semi-circle around us and I was left facing the Lord of the Nazgul in all his might. Freezing cold spread all around and my body shuddered involuntarily, wrapped in its wintry embrace. The Nazgul Lord towered a good two heads above me. He seemed to slide, not walk, as he advanced towards me.

He drew closer until I could no longer hide my eyes from the emptiness inside his hood. Yet I was able to distinguish the faintest gleam of red where his eyes should have been. They seemed to be devouring the very flesh off my bones, baring my soul and I half expected him to reach out and tear my chest open and rip out my heart while it was still beating, so cruel and unforgiving was that stare. Still, I was aware of many things at the same time: of the tomb-like silence enfolding us, of my stomach muscles knotted painfully in expectation of a strike, of the freezing chill that shrouded the Wraith Lord, of Legolas, who had been forced to kneel beside me, but most of all, of the Ring's searing bite against my chest. It crossed my mind that I would probably not live long enough to see its mark etched on my skin. A thought formed in my mind at a subliminal level and I lacked the strength to suppress: it did not even matter how soon they killed me, if they took the Ring.

'The Messenger,' the Nazgul hissed, and although I had trouble making out the words, his mind seemed to be able to reach mine and I understood his meaning easily enough.

'The Messenger is a woman!' he cackled and my blood turned cold.

Why was he prolonging this agony? Why not just get it over and done with?

Then Legolas' clear voice rang out powerfully, defiantly and unafraid.

'The Messenger is a woman indeed. And if the prophecy is right, it is not the hand of a man that will smite you. Yet it could easily be the hand of a woman like her.'

The wraith whipped his head in Legolas' direction and he did not need any features for his wrath to explode. His blood-curdling shriek made us all cower. 

All except Legolas…

'Do not dare speak to me, wood elf, unless you wish for your torment to last for all eternity.'

Legolas said nothing, his eyes aflame with hatred and pride. He spat at the Wraith Lord's feet and promptly one of the orcs raised his mace to slice his head open. A curt gesture by the Nazgul's hand stopped the orc in his tracks.

'Your spiteful words have sealed your doom, prince of Mirkwood. Perhaps it is best to use elvish royalty to start teaching the peoples of Middle Earth a lesson they should soon learn: that the mighty Lord Sauron is back and there is only one Master now. And your torment shall be their first taste of the treatment to be received should they be foolish enough to disobey. Take him away!'

'No, please, no…!' my voice sounded desperate and shrill, all defiance forgotten.

The Nazgul turned his attention to me once more.

'You, Messenger, are in no position to bargain. No sorcery is going to save your lover now. Except perhaps after you have served Lord Sauron faithfully for many years, He shall grant your wish and allow your elf to be slain and bring his torment to an end.'

Sorcery? Did these creatures think I was some kind of a witch? 

My mind raced at frenetic speed, looking for a way to rig this situation to our advantage, to at least gain more time, like Legolas had tried to do just now. There had to be a reason why Legolas had diced with his own life in order to buy us a few precious minutes.

'Now,' the Nazgul Lord screeched 'give me the Ring!' He put forth his steel-gloved hand, in the same nerve-racking gesture I had seen in my nightmare. Only there was no one to shake me awake this time.

'No! I will not!' I said, bringing my hands up to my chest as if I could really protect the Ring if the Nazgul wanted to tear it away from me.

If the wraith was taken aback by my brazen attitude, he recovered quickly because he opened his giant claw-like fingers and clasped both my hands in his fist.

'I will not!' I repeated stubbornly, trying to ignore the unnatural chill that was beginning to seep into my hands, advancing fast along my arms.

'I will not deliver the Ring to anyone but Sauron himself!' I added quickly.

'Do not presume to barter with me, woman.' The wraith exhaled venom with every word he spat at me. 'I will tear your eyes out and leave you for carrion, Messenger or not.'

He meant it, no doubt, but I had gone too far to back out now. Was this what a lawyer did, negotiate and argue? 

'I don't think you will,' I said, trying to appear calm yet sure he felt the extent of my fear and doubt. 'I think you will let me do what I just said.'

'You presume again.' The Nazgul said, yet his hand seemed to release its crushing grip somewhat. He seemed to be hesitating, weighing my words. I moved in for the kill.

'And you presume that I would not tell Sauron how you wanted to take the Ring for your own? If so, then you will not touch me or the Ring again!'

There was no time to consider just how risky and stupid that remark was because a lot of things happened at once: I heard the snarl of the wraith as he finally lost patience with me and his other hand sprang into a life of its own to wrap itself around my neck. I was aware of the ground heaving under my feet and being lifted into the air by a force far beyond anything I had known and it occurred to me that must have been my own neck being snapped and my last conscious thought was a blinding explosion of white light before sight and sound diminished into nothingness.

TBC

Thanks to:

Dy: Well, is this to your liking?

Samus: Thanks for hanging around, hope you like what comes next!


	14. On the Run

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tolkien's characters or locations sigh. Mel is mine though.

To the reviewers:

Danceingfae: Snapped her neck? Well, read on and you'll see…

Dy: I love it when someone calls me evil, wicked, nasty, cruel lol.

Christie: Welcome aboard and thanks for your reviews! So glad you like this. Hope you enjoy what follows…

Maverick Girl: Well, they are going to get out of it this one, but at what cost?

Samus: The Messenger is believed to be some sort of a witch because she comes from another world, and thus her 'power' has to be investigated to see if she can be of any use to the 'dark side' lol. (does this sound verrry lame?)

~ Chapter 14 - On the Run ~

**__**

Aragorn's POV

They are sending out ever more scouting parties to search for us. The orc leader is not taking any chances. From where I was hidden, I saw him questioning Mel earlier and it was plain to see that whatever she said unsettled them.

I wonder why they have not taken the Ring from her yet. They must be waiting for the Nazgul lord to return. It is plain that even their leader is not privy to the Ring's existence. The Nazgul do not trust their filthy minions with this knowledge, for fear of the Orcs claiming the Ring for themselves. 

The scouts pass close to my hiding place but none of them catch my scent. The rank stench of the corpses, already starting to rot in this humid heat clings to this cursed place like a sheet, numbing out all other odor.

I move toward their camp and set to work. I have used Gandalf's explosive rockets before and the panic and confusion they inflict should be enough to give us a chance to free the prisoners. *

I wonder if Gollum will carry out his task. In spite of his proffered help and vows, I do not trust him further than I can spit and neither does Gandalf. Yet it was Gandalf who persuaded me that Gollum had to be given something to do. We both realized that keeping an eye on him in this situation would be a near impossible task. So he had to be made to feel important.

'Do you want to see the Ring again?' the wizard had demanded, hovering over the creature prostrate at his feet. 'Then you will do as I say!'

Gollum's look was that of confusion mingled with fear.

'Smeagol will help you get Mel back,' he said quietly and if we didn't know just how warped Gollum was, the tone of his voice might have been enough to convince us of his truthfulness.

I have set three such explosive devices around the orc-camp, one for each of us to ignite, though I still fear the Gollum has some tricks of his own up his sleeve. But now we need him to ignite one of the devices, as Gandalf will ignite his as I am doing now with mine. I call upon the Lady to give me enough time to reach Mel and the Ring before he does.

The fuse is lit and I must draw back to take cover. Soon enough, the rocket ignites and light explodes in a clamor of sound and blinding flares, tearing the orc camp right open. 

**__**

Gandalf's POV

I watch Gollum as he looks about sneakily before setting his device on fire with scrupulous care, precisely the way I showed him. Only moments before, Aragorn's own rocket has gone off. The rock behind which I hide quakes forcefully and smaller pieces of stone, earth and implements from the orc-camp hail on me, forcing me to take refuge. When it is safe to look around again, Gollum has disappeared and the Orc camp is in absolute chaos. 

The night is alive with the red flaming blaze that engulfs the outskirts of the camp, the smoke is thick and rises gray and pungent with the stench of burning bodies and sheer terror.

The Nazgul's steed flutters its wings in a frenzied panic, it's serpentine neck neatly cleaved by a sharp fragment of rock. Its animal cries increase the wave of panic that sweeps across the camp that is swallowed by billowing smoke, fires burning out of control and the cries of the dying. With all my heart I hope that neither Legolas nor Mel are amongst them.

I light the fuse of my own device and run as fast as this old man's body that the Valar has seen fit to give me would allow. The blast is the most powerful of all and even before the sound of the explosion is over, I hear more agonized screams of terror and agony ringing out everywhere. The very ground under my feet shakes with such force as if the earth itself protests against this violation, and a wave of heat sears the air. 

Out of nowhere, an orc lands at my feet, howling in agony and clawing at my legs between uncontrollable twitches as life drains out of him. I become aware of the reek of scorched flesh and fear that emanates from the camp and I am inclined to believe that it will cling to my nostrils for the rest of time.

Aragorn is slicing his way through the orcs that are confused enough to hang around and are not running screaming for cover. It only takes moments for him to reach Legolas and cut his bonds loose. The elf is wounded but obviously still capable to engage in battle because he picks up a mace from an orc carcass and begins to swing it around, slaughtering anything that moves in his path. I see it briefly in his eyes: he is avenging the horrible death of his comrades and his thirst for blood must be assuaged.

'Mel, where is Mel?' Aragorn bellows over the uproar as I run up close to them. The orcs that have not fled in panic are all but dead and I strain my eyes to look for Mel amongst the corpses and the thick smoke still lingering in the air. Mercifully, the Nazgul's steed has ceased its thrashing but as I come round the beast, I see the cloaked form of it's rider sprawled on the ground. 

Aragorn approaches carefully but it is soon clear that the cloak is empty.

'He's gone, probably thrown aside by the blast,' Aragorn sighs but something catches his attention, something lying underneath the giant dark cloak. He looks to me, his eyes fierce and bleak, and hesitates for a moment before he lifts it to find what lies there.

Mel…

~~

**__**

(Switch to 3rd person)

Aragorn knelt beside Mel's broken form, his expression mournful, and with infinite gentleness turned her over. Caked mud and blood covered her face, her eyes were closed and she looked completely lifeless. Aragorn touched his fingers to the side of her neck and looked up to meet Legolas' widened eyes.

'She is alive, but only barely.' He briefly inspected her body for other wounds. He found none. 'She was not hurt in the explosion.'

Legolas held his breath, knowing there was more bad news to come.

'How close did she come to them?' Aragorn asked him,

'The force of the blast must have thrown the Nazgul on top of her. Before that he had his hand around her neck.' Legolas said sorrowfully. He had wanted to protect Mel so badly and the one moment he had turned around, disaster had struck. 

'I'm sorry…' he whispered to Mel, sinking to his knees beside her and taking her hand into his own, as if she could hear him.

'That was close enough..' Aragorn commented grimly.

Gandalf knelt next to Aragorn, examining her.

'It is what I expected,' the wizard said sharply.

All three of them stared. The chain around her neck was gone. So was the Ring.

~~

Their heads whipped around all at once.

'Where is Gollum?'

Amidst the smoke that still rose and the scattered fires that smoldered softly, the former owner of the Ring was nowhere to be seen. He was probably gloating as he carried his prized quarry away, so easily plundered.

'Are you sure the Nazgul did not get hold if the Ring, Legolas?' Gandalf asked.

'I am certain' Legolas stared intensely at the wizard. 'Just moments before I became distracted, I saw Gollum crawling towards us. He must have taken the Ring.'

'He couldn't have got too far' Aragorn said. He crouched to the ground, concentrating fiercely and when he rose again, it was obvious that he had found what he was looking for. 

'I found his trail. He's heading West,' the Ranger said.

'I think I know where he is going,' Gandalf murmured, nodding his head. 'His old cave. It's the only place he feels safe.'

'Then we must track him at once' Aragorn urged.

'How do you know he is going to his old cave? He knows that is the first place we would search.' Legolas interjected. 'This creature is clever, he would not walk open-eyed into a trap.'

'He never told us how to get there. He was going to guide us.' Gandalf said. 'And he certainly does not count on Aragorn being able to track him.'

'We must make haste' Aragorn pressed. 

'How about Mel?' Legolas asked.

'We will set her on a horse and keep her as comfortable as we can.' The Ranger replied. 'At our next stop, I will try to tend to her. I am quite certain of what it is that ails her.'

'Will it not be too late?'

'I fear that it may already be too late..' Aragorn sighed and shook his head helplessly, his voice thick with emotion. 'But we cannot linger here. The remaining Nazgul have already raised the alarm and the Orcs are sure to come out of hiding soon and pick up on our trail. Let us hope that Mel is strong enough to last a few more hours.'

~~

Legolas sang. He sang a song of a distant place, of the sea, of the Undying Lands that he knew he would one day set sail for. But she did not stir, did not hear about the beauty of it, her frozen fingers did not even twitch in his warm palm. Legolas let go of Mel's hand, and tucked it under the blankets. He glanced up at Aragorn. The Ranger's heart sank as he saw the despondency and grief mirrored in the elf's face.

'It is in vain, she cannot hear me.' 

'I know,' Aragorn sighed, his face covered with sweat and his eyes haggard as he sat by the fire and halfheartedly chewed on a _lembas_. 'There may yet be hope…I will try to reach her again later'

Gandalf shot the Ranger a worried look. Aragorn had been taxing himself to the limit, fighting and marching at a frenzied pace in order to keep track of Gollum's movements. It was at the wizard's insistence that Aragorn had agreed to stop and rest for a few hours. 

The wizard regarded his travel companions and shook his head in disbelief. If they had seemed pitiful only days before, they were now entering into absurd territory.

The elf had an assortment of cuts and bruises across his whole body and a more serious stab wound in his lower ribcage the pain of which had made him pass out twice already, even if it was healing well enough. Aragorn's bitten arm was still somewhat swollen due to the strain of combat and the subsequent exertion of the march. Mel was like a rag doll, unresponsive and gone far beyond anyone's reach, even Aragorn's, Gandalf feared. 

'It is the Black Shadow, a disease that comes from the touch of the Nazgul,' Aragorn had explained as he had given Mel a thorough examination. 'It has spread its wings over her and is holding her captive.'

'How bad is it?' Gandalf had demanded, secretly preparing himself for the worst. He was hardly surprised to find how close Mel had gotten to his heart.

'The Nazgul touched her and that alone is bad enough. ' Aragorn replied. 'This,' he said, pointing to the purple marks on her neck, 'most likely comes from him trying to strangle her. But it did not do too much damage.' He concluded. 'The Nazgul did not have time to inflict the harm he would have liked. Yet a few seconds more and he would have snapped her neck' 

The moment they set up camp, Aragorn had sat down next to Mel's unconscious form, taking her hand in his own, whispering to her softly, gently rubbing her arms, trying to massage out the dreadful chill.

'Mel, come back. Come back from the shadow!'

Soon enough, Aragorn had sunk into a healing trance, offering his own vigor and spirit piece by piece in order to bring Mel back from wherever it was she had gone to.

After a while, Aragorn had re-emerged, exhausted and shaken.

'She will not respond…not yet.' He smoothed Mel's hair protectively, like a father would do to his sleeping daughter.

'Do you think…?' Legolas broke off the question he dreaded to ask.

'I do not know.' Aragorn shook his head dejectedly. 'But I will keep trying. I will _not_ lose her!'

Gandalf glanced at her Mel's sleeping form. She looked so innocent, like a sleeping child, when her hard, forbidding eyes were closed. The swelling caused by the blow to her face was still there but it would be gone in a few days. He hoped that by then Aragorn would have found a way to pull her out of this terrible stupor. 

Failing that, all their efforts would have been for nothing. They would find themselves in front of a gateway that would stay sealed forever, mocking their helplessness with its taunting rock face.

The Enemy followed, every few hours they saw another of their carrion steeds tearing across the skies, watching, stalking and hunting. But their eyes now turned to another…Gollum.

'He knows he cannot wear the Ring,' Gandalf rationalized, 'otherwise the Nazgul will swarm all over him in no time.'

Gollum was fast. But not fast enough. Time and again, Legolas would glimpse him with his eagle vision a mere few hours ahead of them. 

'Every so often he stops to admire the Ring' Gandalf explained. 'He gets engrossed in the beauty of it and loses track of time.'

They rested only for short whiles, tending to their wounds as best as they could and invariably started on Gollum's trail once again. The horses had been abandoned due to the steep slopes of the Misty Mountains. There simply was no time to guide the beasts through the crevices and find ways that would be tolerable for horses. The only horse they kept was the one that carried Mel. 

~~

Jerry had noticed something inexplicable, something he could not ascribe to exhaustion or the pattern of two hours sleep that he had fallen into since the game had started tracking the multicolored dots.

After he had made sure that the green dots were at a safe enough distance, he settled his tired eyes yet again on the four red dots. One of them seemed to be flickering, going on and off like a strange beacon. None of the other ones did that and Jerry could not begin to fathom what caused it. Until a few hours ago.

'Tamara,' he shrieked into the phone 'you've got to get to the hospital straight away.'

Tamara's reaction was predictable. After she managed to calm down a little, Jerry explained.

'Something must have happened to Mel inside the game. At least, I think it's Mel. But I have an idea and, no, I can't explain why and how, but you need to be there with her. I will try to upload a virus in the program.'

'A virus? Are you nuts?' Tamara flew right back in the panic she had managed to surmount moments earlier. 'What if it's going to kill her?'

'And what good are we to her if we don't even try anything? This is all I can do. With a little luck, it might be exactly what Mel needs.'

'A little luck, Jerry. Do you realize just what this could mean for Mel, if it goes wrong?'

'Yes, I do, but do you realize that _we_ have no other option other than to just leave her there? If there is a break in the game's logic, the virus will find it. So go! NOW! There is no time!!!'

Tamara had raced to the hospital and had startled the nurses with her demand to be let in. After all, it was 3am and Tamara bursting into Mel's room did seem a little odd to the hospital staff. 

How could Tamara explain that her friend was running out of time, it would sound insane at best and she herself would probably end up in the same hospital, only in the psychiatric ward. It took her a couple of precious minutes to convince the nurse.

She pushed the door open and was immediately taken aback by the Mel's gaunt countenance. The only light in the room shone straight above Mel's face and her skin was almost transparent. She pulled out her phone and dialed Jerry's number.

'I'm here.' She said into the receiver. 'This better work, Jerry.'

'Let's hope it will,' was the answer. 'I'm uploading the virus as we speak.'

Tamara sat beside Mel, taking her hand into hers. Why was it so cold? She had been assured that Mel's condition was unchanged, all things considered, yet it was only too obvious that something was happening.

'Oh, Mel, where are you? What's happening to you?' Tamara mouthed as she watched Mel's chest lifting in steady, machine-induced breathing, while her eyes rolled frantically under her closed lids. Tamara held her breath as for a moment she prayed Mel would open her eyes. But a sudden premonition came over her, drowning out all other hope and although she had had it before, it had never been so strong. It was certainty more than anything: she had to hurry if she was to see Mel ever again. 

~~

* A/N: I hope the explosives did not sound too far-fetched. My reasoning was that if Gandalf used firecrackers for parties, he could just as well have used advanced pyrotechnics for more serious occasions. 


	15. VOTE FROM YOU

This is not a chapter per se, and I will tell you why I am doing this in a moment.  
  
I've been asked to do something about Legolas and Mel, one moment of closeness before they part ways etc (assuming, of course, that they DO part ways...). I am trying very hard to stay away from the Mary Sue model and as a result I have reasoned that this would not be appropriate. However, since this is fan fiction after all, and you are my readers, I thought I'd ask you first. So be sure to let me know what you think !!!  
  
Thanks again to: danceingfae, Maverick Girl, Dy, Samus (you started all this!!! - lol), vivien and Kyro (welcome!!) 


	16. Breath of Life

Disclaimer: Don't own Tolkien's characters or settings sigh. Mel is mine though..

(notes of thanks at the end of the chapter)

~ Chapter 15 – Breath of Life ~

The Misty Mountains belied their name. For three days now they had been sprinting through scorching sunlight and torrid heat, their faces sunburned and their eyes constantly assaulted by light and glistening gray rocks of the mountains. Scattered about were patches of bright green grass that only added to the exertion.

They traveled night and day, more grateful at night for the respite from heat and blinding light.

'What do your Elf eyes see, Legolas?' Aragorn asked the Elf who was stood on a high rock formation, squinting into the distance.

'I see Gollum still,' Legolas answered, whirling towards them so his words would not be lost in the wind, 'though it becomes harder each time. It is the color of these mountains that he resembles so closely now…'

'He must not be allowed to reach his cave' Gandalf said. 'Once he goes inside, we will never find him. He knows every corner of that place.'

'What do you say, Legolas, do we have enough time to catch up with him?' Aragorn asked.

Legolas slid down off the rocks to face his comrades. 

'I believe so.'

They instantly became aware of the troubled look on his face.

'There is something else' he said quietly.

Gandalf and Aragorn stared, silently bracing themselves.

'A band of orcs is trailing Gollum. They are closer to him than we are.'

'How many?' Aragorn wanted to know.

'Twenty that I saw. Maybe more…'

Gandalf sighed.

'I never thought it would come to us rescuing Gollum. Yet the designs of the Valar are strange, and becoming more so every day.'

Out of reflex, Aragorn glanced at his arm, opening and closing his fist several times. The bite wound was healing slowly, but it had nearly cost him his life. And besides, it was all past now and the end of their mission was in sight. He looked up, resolve written all over his face.

'We must hurry. We cannot allow the Enemy to get their hands on the Ring.'

He had barely finished speaking when they heard it. The thud of powerful wings was distinctive as were the high-pitched cries and the travelers huddled under rocks and bush, taking cover from the piercing eyes of the three Nazgul atop their terrible mounts. 

The wraiths circled for what seemed to be the longest time around the place where the comrades hid.

'The beasts have seen the horse,' Aragorn whispered to Legolas, who was shielding Mel's body with his own.

'Let's hope their more pressing business is finding Gollum', Gandalf said. He glanced at the cobalt skies, silently asking the Valar for help. 

A few minutes later, they heard the abominable flutter moving away.

'Three of them' Legolas said as he peered from their hideout.

'No doubt about where they are going' Gandalf reflected, brushing the dirt off his long robes as he straightened.

'No doubt about where _we_ are going as well.' Aragorn echoed, his eyes burning with grit borne of despair.

They were gone in a few moments, dashing to the aid of Gollum, risking life and limb in exchange for saving the precious item the wretch carried. 

~~

Exhausted, crawling on all fours, muttering curses under his breath, Gollum makes his agonizingly slow way towards the cave…the only home he remembers. He lacks the strength to run any faster from the impending danger he feels with every fiber of his being, and he knows it. The heat is like nothing he has experienced in hundreds of years, assaulting his skin and his eyes, blinding him with its ruthless embrace, until he is convinced that he is no more than a walking torch.

'We hates it, yes…, we do preciouss, we hates the Yellow Face… it burns, it hurts us so…'

Yet he knows that stopping for even one moment would bring him one step closer to death, one step gained by an Enemy he cannot see, yet he can feel. They are converging on him from all directions, he is sure of it, bloodthirsty, eager to dig their claws into him, eager to rip his treasure away from him.

He is so close now, so close he can almost taste the healing water of the cave. The water that would keep him alive for many years to come, if only... Yet, a premonition creeps into the back of his mind: it's too late…too late…

His clammy hand slides on the rock he is climbing and for all his deftness and skill, he loses his balance and tumbles backward. He yelps as he hits the ground and sobs start to rack his emaciated frame.

'We're almost home now, we are, preciousss…but we are soo tired…it's too late…'

He clutches the Ring in his hand, the ends of the chain he ripped from Mel's throat hanging loose on both sides. Strangely he is loath to part with the fine _mithril_ chain that holds the Ring and when he asks himself why that is, it occurs to him that it is because of Mel. No other had shared his visions or remotely shown him any kindness until her. Not that it mattered any longer. She was dead, yet another victim testimony to the Ring's nefarious magnetism.

The closer he gets to his cave, the more he realizes his fatal mistake. 

He had taken the Ring, indeed, Its appeal much too powerful to resist, and was instantly overwhelmed by irrepressible tremors as he clutched It in his hand for the first time in over 60 years. Yet as he had danced away with it, smitten by the one thing he had hungered after for so long, he had known…He had known there and then, beyond a doubt, that _this_ would be his undoing. 

How simple it would have been to just feign obedience to Gandalf and Aragorn and lead them to his cave. Once they reached it, he would have lured Mel away from her companions and find a way to take the Ring. A simple plan, a little patience… yet the call of the Ring was stronger, eroding his mind with Its beguiling song. It took away his last vestiges of sense.

__

He could no longer resist Its call, driven to the brink of madness and back again hundreds of times by so many weeks of close proximity to It… He could not resist touching it again, caressing it like a long-lost lover, even if that meant that he now had to contend with the orcs, the Nazgul and his former wardens close on his trail. Even if that meant that he would never reach his cave on time. 

Possessing It and letting It possess him in turn one last time, was worth giving up his life. What life? The life that had been sheer torment since the day It had left him, seeking another master? 

This is life, he ponders and opens his palm, staring in rapt devotion at the loved/hated thing that kept him alive, feeding slowly on his mind…until he had his opportunity to take It back.

__

He had lit his explosive device exactly the way he'd been taught by Gandalf and in the panic, he had crawled towards the spot where Mel and the Ringwraith had been thrown by the blast. The terrifying song of the Ring drowned out all other sound. The wraith had disappeared, leaving Mel buried in his black cloak. For an instant, Gollum was glad that Mel was lying face down as he crouched next to her, pushing her hair aside and groping for the chain. To look upon her face, as she lay deathly still, would have caused Gollum to waste precious time. He broke the chain off in a single swift move and suppressed his shakes with great difficulty as he slipped the Ring on his wiry finger and disappeared. Yet as an afterthought, he spun around and covered Mel's body with the wraith's cloak, one last gesture of veneration towards her. Then, in a relaxed stride, he made for the edge of the camp... and home!

'You are Mine now, precioussss!!!' Gollum cries out loud at the unforgiving rock faces surrounding him, in defiance of the brazen sun scorching his skin, his loneliness and fear forgotten, and he is ready for yet another onslaught of the mountains, fresh energy swells his gaunt chest and he is ready to go home.

But he does not get to take another step. He hears the rush of air torn by an arrow and the force of it striking his leg sends him reeling backwards.

'Nooooo!…Preciousss….' he wails as he scrambles pathetically behind a rock and away from the hail of arrows that lodge in the ground where he was merely a few seconds ago.

He looks down at his thigh and his huge eyes widen in shock as he sees the arrow has sliced clean through, protruding from the back of his leg. He wants to crawl, but he cannot. More arrows strike all around him and he is cornered with his back against the rock. Too late….

He is trapped…. ! 

~~

'Legolas, cover me!' Aragorn bellowed as he launched himself at the group of orcs. The elf shot arrow after arrow at an amazing speed while Gandalf launched a white light from his staff, scaring the orcs out of their wits.

Screams of anger and terror tore the air as Aragorn brandished his sword in one hand and a mace in the other, sending orcs and several of their body parts flying in all directions. 

None who got close survived. Any who tried to shoot arrows at him fell dead by Gandalf's sword or Legolas' arrows.

In a peculiar stroke of fortune, Legolas came face to face with Bursuk. The sheer terror in the orc's face contrasted the disgusted, savage look that Legolas bore.

The orc tried to scramble away, but life was slowly draining out of him from a wound the elf had inflicted only seconds before. Legolas pursued him and stood over the body of the dying orc. 

'How many of you are following behind?' Legolas questioned. When the orc croaked something, the elf crouched and whispered in a menacing tone 'Tell me, and you die easy. Keep quiet, and you will suffer!'

'Fifty… about fifty…' the orcs rasped, his black blood seeping into the ground. 

'Perish, scum of the earth! This is for my comrades' Legolas spat, keeping his word, and delivered the deathblow. One clean swipe and the orc's severed head rolled into the dirt. Legolas bent over the corpse for an instant, searching for something.

'I believe you won't be needing this anymore!' he said as he tore his own knife away from the orc's grasp. The knife Bursuk had taken from Mel. 

'There's Gollum!' Gandalf shouted pointing his staff at the lone figure lying at the base of a rock. The wizard's gesture sent the remaining orcs into a flat panic and most of them dropped to the ground, expecting another jolt of white light.

A few minutes later, the three warriors glanced around. They had managed to defeat the twenty orcs who now lay dead or dying, soaking the earth with their cursed blood. Already the stench was beginning to riddle the air and with the heat, the place would be reeking of decaying flesh before long.

Gandalf rushed towards Gollum's figure.

'Don't move, Gollum!' the wizard warned and promptly sheathed his sword. The creature watched him approach with undisguised hatred in his eyes, drawing breath in heavy wheezes.

As Gandalf came up close, he was dismayed to see more than the hatred in Gollum's eyes and to discover the reason for his stillness.

The creature lay hapless and broken, his back against the rock. An arrow was stuck in his thigh, rendering him unable to run or even crawl away. Orcs would have used him for target practice had they not been waylaid.

But the main source of damage was inflicted by another arrow that had lodged between his upper left ribs. Dark red blood leaked slowly out of the wound and the creature's body was inert from the shock of the impact.

'Smeagol...' Gandalf sighed at the pitiful sight. 

Aragorn and Legolas approached running but soon stopped as soon as they laid eyes on Gollum.

'His lung's been punctured, most likely' Aragorn remarked after briefly examining the wound. 

He looked up at Gandalf and shook his head meaningfully.

Gollum pulled his lips back in a hateful sneer, saying nothing. He knew he was dying yet he still clutched the Ring, too weak to even move his arm. None of them made a move to take it away.

Aragorn turned his attention back to Gollum.

'How far is the cave?' he asked in the gentlest way he could muster.

'Smeagol will not tell…' the gasps were coming with every word. 'What good…is it now…? The gateway…there is no one to open it for you now…is there?' The creature gloated, even on the brink of death. 

'You're wrong, Smeagol' Gandalf said, looking closely at Gollum. 'Mel lives. She is gravely hurt, but there is hope yet that she may survive..'

Gollum's eyes grew wider still, the madness dancing there briefly forgotten.

'Yes, Gollum,' Aragorn added 'Mel is not dead like you no doubt believed when you stole the Ring from her.'

'We… did not… steal…the precious' Gollum breathed, '_you…YOU are the thievessss….'._

Gandalf leaned over, his face level with Gollum's, his eyes intent and almost pleading.

'You can help us save her, Smeagol. We need to reach the cave soon, otherwise she will die.'

Both Legolas and Aragorn gave the wizard a strange look. Did he think that appealing to the creature's sense would work?

'Now, Smeagol,' Gandalf continued 'tell us where the cave is. And you get to keep the Ring for a little while longer.'

Until I die, Gollum's question went unasked. Yet it appeared that Gandalf's offer was a generous one indeed since his hatred filled expression subsided long enough for him to emit a muffled groan and indicate the direction to the cave with a nod of his head.

'Well done Smeagol!' Gandalf said, almost like praising a rebellious child who had for once obeyed the rules.

A sudden fit of deadly coughing racked the creature's skeletal frame and soft pink foam appeared in the corners of his mouth. Mercifully, he lost consciousness before he choked on the blood rising from his lungs. Through all this, his fist had remained obstinately closed around the Ring.

'We cannot leave him here to die,' Aragorn said, 'and moving him will only hasten his death.'

'Aragorn, there are still orcs pursuing us' Legolas interjected. 'The one called Bursuk told me before I killed him. He says about fifty of them.'

'And the Nazgul are due to arrive back any moment.' Gandalf said quietly.

'To the cave then' Aragorn said and without further ado, he lifted Gollum's body up like a child and started off in the direction the creature had indicated.

By dusk the same day, they reached their destination.

In the protected space of Gollum's cave, Aragorn, who had carried the creature the entire way, set him down gently and immediately ran to Mel's side.

Gandalf lit one of the torches they had plundered from the orc-camp.

Legolas was seated himself next to her, bathing her face, singing softly an elvish song and trying to warm her icy hands by holding it between his palms.

'I will try to reach her again.'

'Now?' Legolas was slightly taken aback. 'I thought we were going to find the waterfall and try to heal her there.' 

'I have an idea' Aragorn said. 'You must know that even if I do succeed in bringing Mel back, it will be on borrowed time.'

'I feared that.' Legolas said dolefully, not taking his eyes off Mel's peaceful face.

Aragorn continued.

'But if she is free of the shadow as she walks into the waterfall, the water might actually help her heal in her own world. It is a chance worth taking. I would do anything to ensure that I have not sent her into oblivion. And if I have to give my up my own vigor to bring her back, so be it!'

Both Gandalf and Legolas searched Aragorn's face intensely, but said nothing. Eventually, the both nodded in agreement.

'Do it then!' Gandalf said. 'We owe her that much.'

'I will need all the help I can get.' The Ranger gave Legolas an eloquent look. He then sat cross-legged next to Mel's body and grasped both her hands into his.

'Come back to us this time, Mel' he murmured.

Behind him, Legolas was softly chanting a hymn.

~~

__

The sea was calm, calmer than she had ever seen it, a flat expanse of gray glittering with tinges of russet and gold pouring from the rising sun. 

She walked in the fine blue sand that gently massaged the soles of her bare feet, inviting her to feel at ease in this eerie place that she had never seen before. Yet it felt like home, a home she did not remember….

To her left, the sea lapped tranquilly at the beach, to her right the blue sands, flat as a bed, stretched as far as her eyes could see.

The sun was rising exactly at the midpoint between the sea and the beach and she felt possessed by a strange need to reach for the light spreading so generously, so close to her. She hoped to get there before the sun was up in the sky and out of her reach. Her pace quickened. She ached to feel the warmth of it on her skin….now.

A warm wind swept over her face and it felt like a caress. It seemed to whisper something to her as it rushed past. She pricked her ears.

What did it say, she wondered?

'Do not be afraid…'

She wasn't afraid. In fact, she had never been more comfortable in her whole life. 

'Mel…'

This time it was not the ethereal voice of the wind. This was a human voice, drifting across from somewhere far behind her. 

But she did not want to listen to it or turn around to see whom it belonged to.

'Mel….Mel…'

She longed to forget that name. The mere association with it made her feel uncomfortable, her joints sore, her whole body heavy and sluggish. And the weight of her own body was too much of a burden to bear as she strove towards the sunlight.

'Mel, Mel, turn around!'

It was a familiar voice yet above all she reveled in the closeness to the rising sun. Already the warmth of it suffused her face and arms. It was like coming home after years of wandering. She remembered being so cold, only moments before. 

'MEL!'

A stab of pain as she spun on her heels, longing to tell whomever it was to go away and leave her be. As if from a fog, she saw the two figures walking purposefully towards her. One was a tall man with a craggy unshaven face, the other a woman with sad blue eyes and a worried look on her face.

'I know you…' Mel mused while every muscle in her body throbbed with the need to turn around and continue towards the heat, towards the light.

The man and woman stopped in front of her and Mel instantly remembered.

'Tamara…'

'Yes, it's me' Tamara said, her eyes brimming with tears. She grasped Mel's hands in hers. 'Do you remember me?'

'I think so…' Mel answered warily. 'Have you come to say good-bye, Tamara?'

'No, Mel, I've come to take you back!'

'Back? Back where?' Mel shook her head mournfully. 'You and me, Tamara, we don't belong in the same world anymore.'

Tamara searched Mel's face, her look turning desperate. 

'Come with us, Mel.'

'No!' Mel's body went rigid. 'Please, I don't want to leave this place. I'm warm here. Please,' she said, prying her hands loose from Tamara's grip, 'let me go…'

'Do you remember me?' the man asked gently, drawing Mel's attention from Tamara.

Mel hesitated.

'Aragorn?' 

He nodded and smiled.

'Trust me, Mel. Come back to us. This place is not for you….not yet.'

'I don't want to go back!' she protested. 'I'm so tired…'

'We need you!' Tamara pleaded.

Mel eyed them obliquely.

'No, I don't think you do!' she said sharply, a sarcastic smile creeping on her face, 'I don't think you need ME. I rather think you need me to DO something!'

'Mel…!'

'You need me to open your precious gateway!' Mel hissed and backed away a few steps. 'Why don't you open it, Tamara? You are just as 'qualfied' as I am? Why not let me rest here, I don't ever want to go back…I'm tired, I want to rest.' 

Mel made a move to turn around but already the beach was changing, the sand had taken a dark brown tinge and big gray waves, swelled the surface of the sea before breaking with a deafening roar on the shore. The sun was gone, consumed by rapidly gathering clouds. The wind had turned viciously cold.

'No!!' Mel shouted in anguish. 'No….!!.'

Aragorn gathered her in his arms protectively as freezing, bitter rain started pouring out of the angry skies.

'Do not worry, Mel, I will not let go!' he whispered into her hair, holding her tight, before they were swallowed by the bellowing storm.

~~

To Be Continued

A/N: Many thanks to:

Christie: Thanks so much for your kind words and for your 'vote'. Hope you enjoy what happens next.

Chickie D: Welcome aboard and I am so pleased that you've been following my story (and that you sent me a review too lol). Hang around, it will not disappoint you!

Danceingfae: You have a wicked sense of humor, which you wonderfully display in your own fics! Lucky you, I haven't had a single Legolas dream in my whole life, can you believe it? feels jealous I was going to comment on the 'tied-up and gagged' part but I will refrain since this is a PG-13 lol.

Dy: Your argument was very strong and I am definitely not going to suggest that you get sun-glasses as protection for your eyes lol! Thanks for your opinion and yes, Mel still has heavy going ahead of her! Wicked grin


	17. Gollum's Cave

Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's characters or settings sigh. Mel is mine though…

To the reviewers:

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Dy: Sequel???? How does the title 'The Messenger 2 : Return to Middle-Earth' grab you?? Lol, just kidding. I have not thought about a sequel and you will probably agree with me when you read the next chapter. But then again, these darn plot bunnies could well catch me unprepared in the middle of one night. Well, a girl's gotta do something when insomnia rules and the rest of the family are blissfully asleep lol.

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Danceingfae: You of the wicked humor! I totally love it that you liked my depiction of Gollum, he is one of my favorites after all… and I put a lot of TLC into writing him.

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Maverick Girl: Hope you like the ending, and thanks ever so much, once again!!

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Christie: What happens next is that….wait! I cannot give away any spoilers!! By this time next week you shall find out J .

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Samus: Sorry I confused you! Well, to explain: if you remember a previous chapter, Jerry (the programmer) uploaded a virus into the game and that made Tamara's presence possible. The beach is my representation of death (or if you want the state just before death), hence the comfort and peacefulness that Mel felt and her reluctance to leave. Aragorn was there in his capacity as healer and he managed to pull Mel away from it. And remember this VR game has actually managed to tap into a parallel universe (Middle-Earth). Hope this helps!!

~ Chapter 16 – Gollum's Cave ~

Mel' body heaved in a sharp intake of breath as her eyes flew open and she felt the breath of life run through her like a jolt of electricity. She blinked furiously several times and shortly her breathing slowed to a normal rhythm. Before long, the shadows she could not discern filled out and their shapes became familiar to her heavy-lidded eyes.

Three smiling faces hovered above her and Mel instantly remembered the last image before darkness had taken over: the Nazgul.

To look upon the faces of her friends was a blessing. Yet something, no.._someone_ was missing from the picture.

'Tamara..' she whispered raggedly, her voice barely above a breath.

Aragorn's smile turned sad.

'You remember her? Do you remember where you saw her?'

Mel nodded, her eyes growing clearer by the minute as realization of what had happened dawned on her.

'Yes, I do remember…' she said and squeezed her eyes shut, overcome by sudden despondence, wanting to shield her despair from her companions who had risked enough to bring her to life. All was silent and for a moment, and they respected her solitude.

A water pouch materialized in Legolas' hands.

'You must be thirsty.' 

The corners of Mel's mouth lifted slowly in a reluctant smile and she managed to sit up on her elbows and take the liquid that tasted so good and fresh like nothing she had ever drank before.

But once her thirst was assuaged, thoughts came rushing back in her head and her eyes darkened once more. She touched her neck tentatively and looked up at Gandalf.

'They've taken It, haven't they?' 

The wizard shook his head gently, the promise of a smile on his lips.

'No, the Enemy did not take the Ring. Gollum did.'

A short while later, Mel had learned the outline of the events that had taken place since they fled from the orc camp. She spoke very little and Aragorn watched her closely as she sat up, hugging her knees to her chest, listening to Gandalf. Her improvement was quick and most welcome as time was running out. Yet the Ranger found her changed in a way that he could not put his finger on. It was Mel, yet at the same time there were depths in her eyes that had not been there before. 

'So where is the waterfall?' Mel questioned when Gandalf had finished, glancing around. 'Is there still a long way to go?'

Why was she so anxious to get to the waterfall, did she not realize what it could mean for her?

'It is close by.' Gandalf answered.

Mel nodded and turned her eyes to Gollum, who was still lying unconscious, like a broken toy. She grimaced at the sight.

'It's sad to see him like this, in spite of all he's done,' she murmured then her eyes shifted, looking straight at Aragorn. 'How is your arm?'

'Healing quite well.' Aragorn replied carefully. 

'But you look so pale' Mel protested. 'Is it still bothering you?'

'Not any more' was the Ranger's reply.

Mel stared for a moment, then understood.

'It's because you brought me back, isn't it?' she spelled out every word, not taking her eyes off Aragorn's steady gray gaze. 'You gave your strength to bring me back, didn't you?'

'And I am glad I did' Aragorn replied tersely. 'It was the least I could do.'

Mel sighed and shook her head. They were even.

'Thank you…' she whispered, lowering her eyes.

She averted her face and to Aragorn it seemed that she had done so on purpose to hide her emotions. He could not shake the feeling that Mel was somehow distracted. Physically, she was much better, yet she appeared distant and unreadable.

'Mel, is there something you wish to share with us?' Legolas asked and Aragorn knew beyond a doubt that the elf had felt the same thing.

'No, nothing at all.' Mel shook her head, then smiled thinly, mostly to herself, her eyes strangely unfocused. 'Except maybe that I still cannot believe I am here with you, moments from possibly returning home and not lying raped and dead in the orc camp.'

She rose unsteadily and stood still for a moment, willing herself to steady the world spinning around. She shook her head to chase the sensation away. Legolas was beside her in an instant, in case she could not hold herself up. She took a few cautious steps and found she could put one foot in front of the other without collapsing.

Mel padded across to where Gollum lay and sat next to him cross-legged, letting out a soft moan as she did so.

'Are you all right?' Legolas asked softly. 

'I'm fine.' the answer came, too quickly and a tinge biting.

She sat there, hands clasped in her lap, a strange hollow look on her face. Suddenly she squeezed her eyes shut and Legolas saw tears running down her face. She pressed her lips tightly together and lowered her head. Dark hair spilled onto her face like a veil, covering her features.

'Mel, what is it?' Legolas asked desperately, taking hold of Mel's clasped hands. Her whole body had gone rigid and he knew it was because she was trying to control herself. 

'It's all right, Mel, let it out.' Aragorn said in an appeasing tone. 'You've been through a lot.'

What happened next took all of them by surprise. Mel wrenched her hands free of Legolas' grasp and spun around, leaping to her feet, to Aragorn's surprise, who thought that she still had a long way to go until she could do something like that.

Her eyes were dark and wild and harried as she spoke.

''You don't understand! I don't care what I've been through!'

'Mel, it's all right..' Gandalf said kindly.

'No, it's not all right!' Mel retorted tartly, cold sweat running down her incensed cheeks as her eyes burned with a dark glow, pupils enlarged.

__

'You risked your lives to save me, bring me back from the dead, and all I can think about is….the Ring.. All I can think about is how soon this unfortunate creature will die so I can take It back….' her voice broke and she buried her face in her hands in a display of shame and regret.

Gandalf's brow knitted painfully, as he understood.

Legolas took one step towards Mel, but her arm shot forward in a desperate gesture that arrested his movement. 

'Leave me alone!' she pleaded. 

The elf gave Aragorn and Gandalf a pained look and the Ranger shook his head helplessly. He understood only too well, he would have reacted in the exact same manner. He himself had heard It's call night after night, promising him power unheard of, immortality and everlasting glory, if only he would stretch out his hand…and It would be his… He could hear it still, a soft hum in the back of his head, as It lay expectant in Gollum's dying grasp and for a moment, Aragorn was grateful that they had let the creature keep it. 

Gollum stirred, cutting the bizarre standoff short. Mel stood over him and the creature's eyes grew wide at the sight of her as his breath hitched, ragged and terminal.

'Smeagol..' she sighed, compassion returning to her gaze.

The three watched closely as the creature motioned her closer. She bent her head close to his face to listen, her face turned away from them. But Gollum did not get to utter a word because he was overcome by another fit of coughing. Pink foam and blood sprayed out of his mouth as he struggled for breath. He clutched chain an Ring to his chest with both hands while his remaining vigor was spent thrashing about as all his air passages constricted and he slowly suffocated.

Mel watched helplessly as his enlarged eyes grew glassy and the breaths became more and more shallow. With it's dying breath, the creature was trying to say something even as his eyes darkened and his body convulsed with shock.

'You …will…submit…to It, preciousss…you…will..' 

His body jerked up spasmodically one last time then he was still. For a brief instant the stifling air of the cave carried the echo of his last breath followed by a silence so heavy, it was almost palpable.

'I'm sorry, Smeagol…' Mel whispered. She took hold Gollum's inert hand and pried it open with some difficulty. She held up the chain, examined the Ring, then closed her fist protectively around it and looked up at her companions, her eyes two dark pools bearing no trace of emotion.

'…but you're wrong.'

~~

In the silence that followed, Legolas stood still, ears pricked, listening intently.

'They are coming' Aragorn confirmed the elf's suspicion.

Legolas ran to the entrance of the cave for a quick look.

'Orcs are climbing up the slope. I saw three Nazgul too, landing their steeds' Legolas warned breathlessly. 'They will be here in minutes.'

'How long does it take for the gateway to open?' Mel asked. The curtain of folly had lifted from her eyes, which were now free of the glazed over look from just moments ago.

'No one knows' Gandalf replied.

Aragorn and Legolas exchanged looks with the wizard.

The wizard nodded and drew his sword.

The unmistakable sound stopped Mel in her tracks, panic mingled with despair written all over her face as she understood what they meant.

'No, I can't go without you,' she cried, shaking her head forcefully.

'You must!' Aragorn said urgently ' We will hold them back.'

'No, please' Mel begged, 'there are too many of them, I saw their camp, you'll be killed.'

'No, we won't! There is no other way…' Aragorn replied briskly. 'You have to make a run for it.'

Legolas face was serene as he gazed at her.

'If you stay, all that we have fought for would be for nothing. You know that.'

Mel looked into Legolas' face closely. He still bore the marks of the torment he had endured at the hands of the orcs. She remembered her premonition when the elf had left them to bring his father's soldiers. She had been right. She had never laid eyes on him quite the way he was.

'I hope you find the healing that you need in the waters of this cave. I shall never forget what you did for us..' Aragorn's gray eyes were melancholic but resolute as he smoothed Mel's hair. 

'Trust yourself Mel, and you will succeed in returning to your world' was all Gandalf said, smiling encouragingly, the gentle old man that had sustained Mel's spirit for so long, still very much there. 

Her eyes brimmed with tears as she embraced them.

'When I look upon the sea for the first time, I shall remember you, _mellon nin_..' Legolas said with an easy smile. One would have never thought that he was about to do battle with innumerable enemies and most likely perish in the attempt. 'I wish we'd had more time…'

Mel bent her head and squeezed her eyes as she held him close, laying her head on his chest, seeking that distinctive feeling of protection and invincibility for one last time.

'So do I…'

The clatter of marching feet shattered the moment. The orcs were approaching and without warning, arrows began to hail on them, barely giving them enough time to dodge.

'Go, now! Follow this tunnel!' Aragorn said forcefully, thrusting a torch in Mel's hand. 'We will follow behind you as soon as we can!'

**__**

Mel's POV

'We will follow…', whom was Aragorn trying to fool? Trying to give me one last hope that they might make it out of the battle? I can already hear the tumult unfolding behind me. I cry even as I walk and I pray to whatever divinity Middle-Earth worships that they escape unscathed.

My body is still stiff and I am still slightly dazed so I do not make too good a job of running, I can barely walk. But I follow the way that Aragorn has indicated. It is a tight, winding tunnel, it smells of damp and something rotting, but I dare not look. Better off not knowing than having more panic to deal with. 

The torch lights my way as the tunnel bends sharply left and suddenly the clamor of the fight is drowned. I stop for a moment to catch my breath and this almost painful need overcomes me. I wish at least one of them were here with me, because…

'Stop it!' I say aloud, if only to force myself to steady my arduous breath and I wonder if I am running out of oxygen and if this tunnel indeed leads anywhere.

But even as I take the next step, my mind follows through with the thought and I know that I cannot hide from it any longer: I wish one of them was here with me because I don't think I can see this through. I have never been so scared in my life. 

__

What if I cannot do this?

Another abrupt bend and I suddenly find myself out of the tunnel and I see the lake. Here the cave is domed and sunlight filters through two round openings in the ceiling. 

Sunlight in this place is so unexpected or unhoped for that my spirits lift instantly. At some point in the tunnel, I had made peace with the idea that I would never see daylight again, yet here it is, penetrating the murky blue water with its uncompromising intensity, giving the whole cave an uncanny smoky quality.

On the wall opposite to where I stand is the waterfall, and I have to look twice to make sure that the white foamy water that cascades down the golden gleaming rock is not frozen for it makes no sound as it falls on a round black surface, large enough to hold several people. 

All around are dark rocky walls and I have no doubt that even if I whisper they will carry the echo into an acerbic resonance. The lake has no beach, the rocky floor gaping straight into the water, like a pool.

The quality of the air has suddenly improved and I feel a fresh surge of energy welling up my tired body and I cannot explain it. Could it be the healing effect of the waters that I have not even dipped into?

I cannot waste time, yet I allow myself a moment to admire the dark beauty of the surroundings. This will be the last place I will ever see, most likely. 

Oh, if only I could find myself on that exquisite beach, where all was restful and from where I had been rushed away…so I could come _here_ and die alone in the dark.

This place still reeks of Gollum's presence somehow and the thought makes my stomach turn.

I set the torch down by the edge of the pool and I still cannot see how deep the milky blue water is. I look around and there is no way around the pool to reach the waterfall. 

I would have to swim there, no more than two hundred feet, I judge. I hope to have enough strength left.

I decide to keep my clothes on in case the water is freezing cold, too flimsy protection against the cold. I suddenly hate this water and what could lurk inside it. How ironic it would be if I had to be attacked and killed by some creature living under the surface, or if I had to be crippled by hypothermia halfway across. But then again, these waters are meant to be healing…

The only real dilemma I am faced with is what to do with the Ring while I swim across the lake. It still dangles on the chain and I have held it in my fist since I took it from Gollum. The chain is broken so I cannot put it around my neck again. Holding it would hinder my swimming and besides, it could still somehow slip from my grasp and get lost in the water. I would never find it again.

The only logical conclusion is wearing it. And hoping that it would not wreak too much havoc with my mind in the short while it would take me to cross the lake and reach the waterfall. The ring has been strangely silent since I took it back and I am almost tempted to believe that what I heard before was a figment of my imagination.

The faintest of rustles behind me, and I become aware that the sounds of the battle are drawing nearer to me. I pray for my friends to be protected and spared and although I know I cannot be of any help, I wish I could be there.

Trying not to cringe and chasing away fear of what might lurk under the surface, I edge inside the water, which I find suitably cold to keep me alert but not enough to send me into a hypothermia fit. I cannot touch the bottom and the water is thick like cream, or mud, making swimming difficult. 

I rest my elbows on the edge while I let the Ring slide off the chain and I slip it on my finger.

It fits perfectly…

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To Be Continued

A/N: Okay, one more chapter to go and then it's over! Promise!!! 


	18. The Gateway

Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's characters or settings. sigh Mel is mine though.

A/N: Okay, this is the last chapter. 

Thanks to all of you who have followed and reviewed the story, it meant a lot to me (since I thought this was going to be a 15000-word fic and it ballooned into this monster). 

We tread a long path together and I am in a way sad that we must say good-bye now.

Although I have been asked to write a sequel, I don't think I will and I think that having read the end, you will agree with me. But who knows, never say never, right?

I'd like to know how you found the ending, if it's what you expected and if it is fitting. Many thanks again!

Namarie!

~ Chapter 17 – The Gateway ~

I have never felt like this before.

It is a completely altered state.

The loudest noise is the beating of my own heart. All around, shapes are wrapped in a gray patchy mist and as I start to swim towards the waterfall that I can now barely distinguish, I can hear a rhythm, a monotonous drone that becomes more and more part of the gentle lapping sound of the water. And it occurs to me that it is the sound of my own pounding blood. It seems to have a mind of its own, a soft voice that murmurs something that I can neither distinguish nor wish to pay attention to., because I know who/what it belongs to and because I have no intention of succumbing to It.

I have to concentrate on swimming, on ignoring the heaviness that weighs down my hand that wears the Ring. Will it be my fate to be dragged down in this depth and drown before I even have the chance to reach my destination? It is so close, yet it suddenly occurs to me that it is nearly impossible to reach.

I swim several feet and I feel it: surges of energy far beyond I have ever experienced. And I cannot help it but ask myself if it is because of the legendary healing power of the water, or if it is the Ring's promise and this is happening to me because I am wearing it?

__

Mel…

A whisper, a promise, then….

An image crashes on me out of nowhere and for all my blurred vision, this vision is crystal clear and yet I know that it is not real and I know where it comes from: it is an image of my world.

__

You are the hand of every mugger robbing an unsuspecting couple on a hot summer night as they make their way home from a restaurant….

I see it, I am in the mind of the criminal yet I cannot do anything to prevent it from happening…

__

You are the whip of every slave driver that curses the slow-paced workers in the oppressively hot sweatshop at the end of their sixteenth hour of work…

Why are you saying this?

__

You are the hit-and-run driver whose car is smeared with the blood of the innocent pedestrian it knocked down minutes ago before racing on into the night…

How can you know anything about my world?

__

You are the hand of every child abuser stretching hungrily in search of ever-younger flesh…

I don't want to hear it!!

__

You are the friendly neighborhood drug dealer, selling false dreams to high-school kids looking for a kick…

Leave me alone!!!

__

You are the bloodied knife of the murderer who strikes again and again in a frenzy of annihilation…

Stop, please stop…..

__

You are the bomb of every terrorist whose single ideal in life is blowing himself up together with a busload of civilians

Noooooo! 

Memories of my world, at long last returning to me, assailing my mind from all directions, like physical blows and I recoiled, sinking under water and resurfacing again, but to no avail. 

My memory was coming back, all at once, all too terrible. 

**__**

Is this the world you want to go back to? Is this the world you want to take the Ring to? Isn't there enough evil already without you bringing more of it?

But Gandalf said…they assured me…

__

Yes, and what would you have done in their place? Their mission was to get rid of the Ring. They've done it before, lying to you…Using and deceiving you were a means to an end, no matter how attached they got to you in the process.

Oh, no….

__

You cannot take the Ring across!! 

Your world is too high a price to pay for saving this one!

…

Mel pushed herself up on her hands and out of the water, failing to climb onto the platform in the first attempt. The second time, she kicked the water powerfully and managed to haul her body up on the flat surface where she lay still for a while, face down on the cold rock while her broken sobs echoed in the cave and her body trembled violently from shock. 

With immense effort, she flipped herself onto her back and forced the Ring off her finger. More than anything, she wanted to fling it aside, to see it swallowed by the cloudy water where not even the servants of Sauron would find it. But she knew she could not.

Could there be an ounce of truth in the terrible visions she had seen? 

Would the Ring bring destruction to her world? 

Was there the slightest chance that Gandalf had lied?

The seed of uncertainty and doubt had been planted in her head…

All of a sudden, a terrible fear gripped Mel and she curled on her knees, whispering to herself.

'I can't do this! How will I ever know that it is a lie! I can't take that chance…'

__

But if I stay in Middle-Earth….she toyed with the idea…

Her eyes flitted to the cave ceiling. She would have those walls torn down, the healing waters of this pool made freely available to everyone in Middle-Earth…she would be a savior, a healer. She could even heal Sauron of his terminal stupidity of having believed that something trivial like a Ring could embody his power. No one would need the ring when harmony would prevail. Healing and harmony… and she would initiate that, and yes, the thought even appealed to her… 

Life thousands of years beyond the lifespan of her race, absolute freedom and someone like Legolas to share it with. Was it too much of a fairy tale? Could she choose not to believe that it was possible, no matter how far fetched it sounded? Could she choose to ignore the incredible energy and vigor coursing through her body this very moment, returning her strength and giving her vitality way beyond she had ever felt in her life? 

'I have no right to gamble away the fate of my world!' she said aloud and her voice echoed in every last corner of the cave.

She stood up, feeling the energy course through her body, from her toes to the tips of her fingers up into the roots of her hair. She turned towards the waterfall and regarded the water seeping down silently.

'I cannot go across' she finally whispered to it. 'I must stay here and take my chances.'

At that precise moment, the curtain of water cracked down the middle, the sound of crumbling rock sending reverberations in all directions. Strong golden light trickled through the hairline fractures, like sunrise through a screen of clouds and Mel shielded her eyes from its brightness. The whole cave was lit from within with a warm pale glow, like that of early morning. With amazing speed, the curtain of water dispersed, giving way to a tunnel at the end of which a portal was clearly distinguishable. A portal to her own world..

The tumult of bustling, darting feet wrenched her back to reality and, to her utter dismay, she saw three figures approaching from the mouth of the tunnel, two shorter ones and one unmistakably tall one: the Nazgul. The cave carried the sound of their foul voices to Mel's ears.

'How are we going to get back?' One of the orcs was saying, clearly terrorized. 'Those three fiends are killing everything that moves. It's a wonder we slipped past them…'

'If we don't find the Messenger, we're dead anyway, so why worry about those three now?' another voice replied.

In spite of finding herself in a hard spot, in full light and a perfect target for the orc's arrows, Mel smiled inwardly, silently thanking whoever was protecting her friends. They were alive and giving the enemy the hell they deserved.

Two orcs scurried beside the wraith and stopped short of edge of the pool, eyeing her, sneering and fingering their bows.

The wraith turned its head towards Mel's dark figure against the background of powerful light spilling from the portal. He sensed her and the Ring were close.

Mel stared back, knowing exactly where the wraith's eyes were inside the empty hood and locking her gaze with him.

'Should we shoot her down, my lord?' one of them asked and Mel clearly saw the wraith's dark hood nodding assent.

She could not afford to wait for the orc to arch his bow. Out of pure conservation instinct, she dived headfirst into the portal even as the arrows zipped past her, and she was inside the passageway. The last sound she heard was the terrible shriek of the Nazgul as it saw the Messenger and the Ring being consumed by the blinding light that radiated from inside the gateway.

And just as quickly and noisily as it had opened, the gateway froze shut, the light died out and the cave was returned to it's original obscurity, denied the light it had been blessed with for a transitory moment.

…

Mel rose shakily to her feet, the energy from moments ago dissolved. 

Sheer chance had made her plunge into the portal and she knew there was no way back now.

She stood motionless, weighing her options: to go across the tunnel of light and take her chances on the other side of the portal or to lie down here and die in the no-man's-land between worlds. How long would it take for her to die here: hours, days? And would she have the strength and willpower not to crawl through the portal, delirious from hunger and thirst, hoping for salvation?

A burning sensation shifted her attention to the Ring in her palm and as she glanced down at it, she realized she had the answer.

In fascinated awe, she watched as the ring started turning red, crimson light exploding through the Black Language markings and felt it scorch her hand as it grew sizzling hot. She clenched her fist around it until she felt that it might burn a hole clean through her palm yet she did not let go.

She might have laughed had the excruciating pain not frozen her voice.

She might have cried in utter anguish for the loss of the beautiful trinket dying in her hand

But she recognized it now for what it was: it had all been a lie, a final, cruel deception of the Ring trying to brainwash her into staying in Middle-Earth, the only place where it could wreak its havoc.

Did the Ring somehow achieve sentience, otherwise how did it know that once out of Middle-Earth it would disintegrate, its life force depleted, it's capacity to corrupt finally at an end? 

It must have, since it was now screaming it's final, dying song into Mel's ear, overflowing her whole being with it, twisting in agony as it melted in her palm, seeping into her bones, at long last drawing a guttural scream of pain from Mel.

Amidst rising nausea and shock, she watched the sweltering skin of her palm blacken and sizzle audibly as the remains of the Ring pooled in her palm in a hideous star-shape and trickled through her fingers, mingled with her tears as she wept bitterly for the dying splendor of it.

She was free to go back to her world now, she knew, but the pain was insufferable, it pounded in her blood and took over her whole body in an instant, rendering her unable to take another step.

Mel crumbled to her knees and stretched her arm out painfully toward the portal to her world. It was beyond her reach and the thought of dying in the absolute silence inside the no-man's-land between the worlds scared her no end. She wilted as darkness descended on her but she was not aware of it as she collapsed, her arm still reaching out.

~~

The sand on this beach is so fine it prickles my skin when the wind blows, like an invisible yet gentle whip. Today a strong breeze swirls the waves that are big enough to please any surfer. I sit beside the surfboard and bask in the warmth.

I haven't thought about the ring in a long time now. It ceased to haunt my dreams although it's taken me many years to chase away it's lingering shadow.

Memory is something I wish away these days. It is not a gift to possess a mind that remembers everything in the finest detail. It is a downright curse.

That is why I remember the events that took place in Middle Earth with such precision, in spite of the many years that have passed since I returned. 

I remember with vivid clarity how the Ring tried to cloud my mind into thinking that I would destroy my world if I brought it here. 

How it had lied to me promising me power and telling me all that I wanted to hear, if only I would not leave. 

And how, by sheer chance, dodging the orcs' arrows, I had found myself inside the gateway. Had it not been for that, I know with certainty I would have not been able to leave of my own accord and I would have completely fallen into Its dark spell.

Jerry had explained that my saving grace was the virus he had successfully uploaded into the game, the same virus that had made possible my brief meeting with Tamara on that beach. From that point onwards, the game had started to unravel and it's link to the parallel world that was Middle-Earth was slowly broken.

But beyond that, there had probably been other forces at work, I like to believe, since the 'otherworldly' experiences had not ended with me being released from the game.

I often find myself wondering what cruel twist of fate has granted me life beyond any of those dear to me and the invariable conclusion is that the healing waters of Gollum's cave might have had something to do with it. 

Since the day I emerged from the coma, I have not been sick a day in my life, in fact I could venture to say that I was healthier than ever before. 

Yet what I cannot understand was why, when I had resigned myself to never again belonging to either world and the Ring had just gone into oblivion, I woke up in the hospital room where I had apparently been in a coma for months.

The doctors could not explain my sudden revival the same way they could not explain the horrible burns on my right hand. They said that the closest comparison they could make was to holding molten metal and had launched a thorough investigation into which hospital staff member could have been negligent enough to let that happen to a coma patient. Molten metal… They never had an idea just how accurate that was. Many bone replacement and skin graft operations later, I have almost regained the full use of my hand. 

It had taken me months to resume the semblance of a normal life after I had woken up and I returned to running the law firm together with Tamara. 

Except that when my lack of aging had begun to look suspicious, I decided to leave. 

I moved to another city, then another, then another, trying to bury memories and to start a new life each time. Each time knowing that I left yet another illusion behind, only to replace it by a fresh one….

I soon learned that I could not stay in one place for longer than ten years. Friends that I made aged, their children grew up and I would be unchanged and unaged… so I moved on yet again. 

I spent years and large amounts of money on charitable projects, trying to prevent or diminish the exact sort of calamities that the Ring had shown me in those last terrible moments in Middle-Earth. I felt it was the least I could do.

Much as I wanted to, I never married or had any children since I felt that I could not impose this curse upon a husband nor could I make peace with the idea of one day looking younger than my own children. Yet, I am keeping a discreet eye on Tamara's grandchildren, unbeknownst to them, in memory of my friend who was there for me every step of the way through my recovery and who could never really get over the guilt of having changed my life.

I often remember Tamara. She had known my secret all along and had been heartbroken when I left the firm. For the rest of her life, she would often fly out to whatever place I had moved to and we would catch up with each other for a few days. She died an old woman and I have come to terms with the fact that I will never have another friend like her. 

But that was years ago and this morning I discovered a sign that greatly comforted me: my first white hairs. A sign that my body is aging, considerably slower than natural, yet it is happening. 

A heartening thought indeed, since I am now one hundred and fifteen years old and look not a day over thirty-five.

Yet for all my good health and somewhat rewarding but lonely existence, I cannot help but feel immensely exhausted at times. It happens more and more often lately and I wonder if this is a sign that I am maybe fading at last. 

And the thought is welcome, like no other…

I often wonder what has become of Legolas, Aragorn and Gandalf and I like to believe that dreams are a good means of communication. I only had three dreams about them throughout my life.

The first one was of Aragorn and a beautiful dark-haired elf woman, no doubt his Arwen, surrounded by a multitude of children of all ages. He looked aged but kingly, the same nobility mirrored in his face. 

My dream of Gandalf placed him in a green paradise where he looked younger and more vigorous than I remembered him.

Years later I had a dream of Legolas looking out at the sea with a longing look on his face. He stood by the shore where a beautiful grey ship was being built and he looked not a day older than I remembered him.

…

I love coming to the beach and I make a point of choosing a city by the sea each time I move around. I am now in my sixth year in this city and I will be sorry when it is time to leave yet again, for the beach here is amongst the most beautiful that I have seen. The ocean is cold and dark blue, its surface littered with the colorful attire of surfers. The sand is so fine it is unparalleled and it stirs a distant memory of a strange blue beach I had strayed upon a long, long time ago… 

A place of rest, my fondest memory…

I have long ago given up on it, yet now, as I pick up the surfboard and stroll towards the ocean, I see it with my mind's eye and certainty swells in my heart. A gentle breeze upon my face, playing in my hair, inviting and warm and I know now, beyond a doubt, that which I have waited for my whole life…

One day soon, I will see it again.

~ THE END ~


End file.
